The Wrong Kind of Right: A Harry Potter Story
by Wisteria Urs
Summary: Three years after leaving Hogwarts, this series focuses on Harry's new life as Head of the Auror office, and his relationship with his strong-willed, American publicist, Gigi, and the trials the magical world throws at them.
1. Chapter 1

There was nothing more in the world that Gigi Peyton Meyer enjoyed more than order. Order, organization, and management, that was Gigi's motto.

Every morning, Gigi would wake up at precisely 6:30. She would make her bed, and then walk from her bedroom, down the portrait-lined hallway, and into her completely spotless, all-white tile bathroom. She would take a five-minute shower, careful to use only a quarter-sized squirt of her cucumber shampoo and conditioner. After precisely five minutes has passed, she would briskly shave her legs and underarms, and then step out of the shower, careful to wrap her body in one of the thick, blue towels that sat on the warming rack next to the sink. Gigi would then methodically brush her teeth, careful to scrub in between her molars and scrub her tongue. After, Gigi would blow-dry her hair, careful to curl the ends of her chic, sleek, black bob around her thin jaw, framing her face. Once she was sure that her hair was smooth and her bangs were combed, Gigi would apply her make-up. When she was done, she would put on a robe and return to her room, dropping the used towel in the basket in her closet. Gigi would then open one of the drawers to the massive dresser than sat in the corner of her closet. She would carefully select a lace bra and underwear set, and then put on a simple, silk shirt and a slimming black pencil skirt that reached her knees.

Gigi would then browse through her jewelry and shoes. Louboutin, Dior, Chanel, she had it all. As far as Gigi was concerned, the way you looked, what you wore, signified how much you were worth. How much you were worth signified your power in the workplace. Gigi would usually put on a pair of sky-high black heels, a simple piece of silver jewelry.

Then, after making her bed, Gigi would head down to her sanitized, Italian inspired kitchen. She would reach in a cupboard and grab a box of granola. Carefully, she would measure out a ½ cup of the cereal and pour in just the smallest bit of skim milk. She would chew carefully, making sure to grind the granola to bits, chomping down twenty-four times before swallowing. After she was finished, she would brush her teeth one more. She would then grab her wand (12 ½ in, made of yew and the hair of a unicorn) and place it carefully in her purse. She would put on her long, tan trench coat, carefully button it up and walk straight into the living room fireplace, arriving to the Ministry of Magic fifteen minutes before she was due for work.

This was routine was no different on the day of September 2. However, Gigi had a spring in her step. Because this was her day. Gigi had been working at the Ministry of Magic for three years now, under the wing of Alicia Reynolds, the publicist for the Minister. But Alicia, at age 65, had decided to retire, leaving the position of publicist open. And Gigi just knew, she had a gut feeling, that she would get the job. Who would be better? Absolutely no one. You see, Gigi was just as orderly at her job as she was in her personal life. Everything Gigi did she did with extraordinary grace. She was punctual, polite, sometimes demanding, but overall, the perfect employee.

So on September 2, Gigi went about her morning routine with a smile on her face.

On September 2, Harry Potter woke up disoriented. He woke up to the sound of his neighbors arguing. Old Mr. and Mrs. Avett, who lived across the street, got in a fight every morning, usually over the coffee Mrs. Avett had forgotten to brew. Harry screwed up his eyes as the shrieks of Mrs. Avett began to float through his bedroom window, and then yawned. He reached out and groped alongside his nightstand, before his hands fell upon his glasses, which he shoved onto his face. Blearily, Harry looked at his alarm clock, which read seven-thirty. Harry shouted out a rather vulgar exclamation, shot out from bed and to his closet, quickly dressing in his work robes. He slipped on his gold watch, a birthday present he received three years ago, and shoved his feet into a shiny pair of black-leather shoes, his personal favorite. In an attempt to look professional, Harry stopped in front of the mirror that hung above the bathroom sink. He ran his head under the water, and then combed his fingers through his black hair, trying to get it to lay flat. Rather, his hair just stuck up even more, giving him the appearance of being slightly deranged. With no time to eat, Harry ran down the hallway into his study. He grabbed his wand off the handsome, mahogany desk that sat beside a large, bay window, and grabbed a briefcase that sat on a rather battered leather chair. He threw green powder into the fireplace, and shouted a name as he stepped into the warm flame.

September 2 wasn't only Gigi's day. No, though it might not have been apparent, it was Harry's day as well. Harry had finally graduated from his further education, and today, he was officially beginning work as the head of the Auror Department. He felt slightly nervous, and truth be told, he couldn't believe he was really capable of running the department.

By the time Harry arrived at the Ministry, Gigi was already five floors above the entrance, in the Minister's Office.

"Hello, Sir," she greeted the Minister as he settled down in his desk chair. "I brought you your coffee, two sugars and no cream." Gigi handed Kinglsey the cardboard cup. He took a sip, and then nodded appreciatively.

"The American work ethic," he noted in his slow, strong voice. "Good to have you around, Gigi."

"Thank you, Minister." Gigi smiled brightly. "Now, I arranged a press conference for you at three 'o clock today. The Prophet and Witch Weekly, all the press outlets will be there-"

"Uh, Gigi?" Kingsley asked, trying to interrupt, but Gigi kept chatting away, going down her list of notes.

"Now, they're going to want to know about the outbreak of Wizard Pox. It's killed six people in London already, not to mention the hundreds of others. They're calling it a major epidemic, Sir. The cure St. Mungo's has been administering hasn't been working, but you would know that." Gigi placed a thick manila envelope on the Minister's desk. "It's all in there, Sir."

"Gigi!" Kingsley suddenly said, interjecting loudly. Gigi abruptly closed her jaw and blushed. Kingsley smiled slightly, and Gigi's heart skipped a beat. Could this be it? Was her promotion here? "Gigi," Kinglsey began. "You are truly a talented employee. Certainly the best publicist we've had in years."

Gigi nodded in acknowledgment, fighting a smug smile from breaking out across her face.

"And I appreciate everything you do, since you do it perfectly. And I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

"What?" Gigi asked, holding a hand to her heart. "Are you retiring, Sir? You're the best Minister we've ever had, Sir."

"No, no, though I do appreciate that." Kinglsey sighed deeply. "We're transferring you, Gigi."

Gigi nearly dropped her cup of coffee.

"What?" She asked, her voice going up an octave.

"We're transferring you." Kingsley laced his fingers and placed them on top of his desk. "You know that Harry Potter starts work here today. It's a big deal, his start at the Ministry. There's no doubt that every media outlet will be focused on him. That's why we need you on his case. I can handle my own affairs from here out."

"But-" Gigi sputtered, shaking her head. "I'm not getting promoted?"

"Well, I…" Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "In a way, you are. Though you won't be working for me, you will be working for a top Ministry Official. You'll be the only publicist at the Ministry."

"But…" Gigi began. But under Kingsley's soft but intense stare, Gigi fell quiet. "Yes Sir. Thank you."

"That's what I like to hear, Gigi," Kinsley said. He took the file she had placed on his desk and opened it, flipping through the papers. "You can go down there now. We've set up an office for you."

Gigi nodded and left the office, trying hard to keep her composure. Promotion her Pilates-toned ass! She had been demoted.

Meanwhile, Harry had just arrived at the Auror Headquarters.

"Harry," someone said. Harry, to busy taking in the office, looking at the multiple maps and cubicles, with the fluorescent lighting casting bright, flying papers into sight. "Harry!"

Harry shook out of his stupor to see his predecessor, Gawain Robards, approaching him. Gawain had a box in his hands, but placed it under his elbow in order to shake Harry's hand.

"Hi, Gawain," Harry greeted him.

"Come on back," Gawain told him, walking back towards his office, which was now Harry's. The walls were now bare, save for a map of England and a window. The desk was completely clean and there are two wood chairs that sit in front of the desk. "First order of business, you have a few new employees on hand, and you might want to give some kind of speech. I know that everyone's eager to listen to you, seeing as you're Harry Potter."

"Right," Harry said quietly.

"Also, you need to set up a meeting with your publicist. Miss Meyers is going to be basically your assistant in certain areas, managing the public appearances and media things…ah, there she is now." Gawain pointed out the door with his chubby finger. Upon seeing her, Harry dropped his briefcase.

She walked into the area as if she owned it, her high-heels clacking against the wood floor. She checked her watch impatiently, and then pushed her purse higher on her shoulder. Harry watched her; mesmerized by the way her hips swung slightly as she walked. Unconsciously, Harry noticed that he was gaping while looking at her. But conscious Harry made no effort to shut his jaw, but continued to stare at her.

"Miss Meyers!" Gawain called, and she began to walk towards the office. Harry quickly tried to straighten his tie and flatten his hair.

"Gigi, please," she murmured Gawain with a smile. "I've told you a thousand times, its just Gigi." She turned to Harry, and her expression changed. It's colder, more business like, and even vulture-like.

"Harry," Harry introduced himself, sticking out his hand. "Harry Potter."

"I know," she replied, shaking his hand with just three of her fingers, as if she couldn't bear to touch him. "I'm Gigi, your new…" she stopped, cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. "Your new publicist."

"Well," Gawain said, rubbing his hands together. "Now that introductions are done, I'm sure Harry would love a tour of the department. Gigi, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Gigi said, smiling at Gawain. But when he turned around, Harry saw Gigi's smile turn into a frown. She turned to Harry, her eyes dark and unsmiling. "Come with me," she said, rather rudely. Harry, still entranced by her beauty, followed without a word.

He would have followed her to the end of the world, if she had asked him to.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had never been one to believe in love at first sight. He had girlfriends before, but the relationships had built up slowly and ended disastrously.

But as Harry sat in his office on September 2nd, he was sure he had fallen in love at first sight. He was so nervous and jumpy that he slopped his glass of water down the front of his robes, and missed his mouth with his fork, resulting in risotto splattering his lap. Once Harry had cleaned off his robes, he sat in his chair, pretending to fill out paperwork. Truthfully, he wasn't. Gigi's office was across the way, separated only by the desk of the receptionist. Harry was merely dipping a quill in ink, and then scribbling gibberish on a piece of parchment, watching Gigi from the corner of his eye.

Gigi herself was working harder than she ever had before. She was so infuriated at being demoted that she was determined to be the best there ever could be. She would show Kinglsey that he needed her, that she truly was the best publicist, nay, employee at the Ministry. By twelve 'o clock, she had arranged an interview for Harry with the Daily Prophet, which would be done the next day and the editor had guaranteed her a front-page spot. She had also arranged a trip to Hogwarts for this Friday, where Harry would give a press conference about protecting and education the youth, and so on.

Gigi was still working by six 'o clock, after most of the office had emptied out. She was still dictating a long letter to Rita Skeeter when someone knocked on her door.

"Gigi?" The receptionist, Effy, was standing in the doorway, her pale and frail arm held out as if she was still in the process of knocking. Gigi raised her right eyebrow, and Effy lowered her hand.

"Hi Effy." Gigi finished the letter with a flourish, signing her name in large script at the bottom of the parchment. "What can I do for you?" She tapped the parchment with her wand, and it rolled into a neat scroll, and then zoomed out the door, nearly hitting Effy in the ear.

"A few of us were going out for drinks," Effy said. "Would you care to join us?"

"Oh…" Gigi paused. After the day she had, she would prefer not to, but rather, go home and sit in a bathtub with a very, very, large glass of merlot. "I'm terribly sorry, but I can't." She gestured to her office, which was in a state of disarray. "I have some work to get done here."

Effy nodded, and offered a small smile, and then turned around to go, walking quickly away from Gigi's office.

"Thank you, though," Gigi called after Effy, but she didn't appear to her Gigi's cry.

Gigi sighed, pushed her bangs off her forehead, and continued to work. She dipped her eagle-quill in the inkpot on the edge of her desk and began to scribble in her leather-bound planner, careful not to smudge the ink. Once she was done, she blew on the ink and then shut the planner, carefully placing it in the top drawer of her desk. She then scribbled the same appointments in a smaller planner, and then shut that one too. She stood up, planner in hand, and walked out of her office and across the hall, to Harry's office.

All this time, Harry had been finishing up his paperwork for the day, hoping to finish before Gigi left, so he could walk with her to the Floo fireplaces. However, he was so immersed in his work that he was startled by her sudden appearance at the doorway to his office.

"Harry?" She said, and he jumped, stabbing through the parchment with his quill. "I put together a planner for you. I'll put all your appointments and appearances in here, so you always know what's happening."

"Thank you," Harry said, hastening to stand up and take it from her. When he reached out for the book, his fingertips brushed hers, and he felt his heart jump. However, Gigi didn't seem to notice, and her face remained composed and cool. She nodded and turned to leave, but Harry made a noise in his throat, and she turned to him, looking slightly alarmed. "I…I heard people are going to a pub tonight. Are you…are you thinking of going?"

Gigi smoothed her skirt. "No," she said simply. "I have work to do, in case you didn't know."

"Well I would hope so," Harry said, taken aback by her abrupt reply. "Make sure everything's going smoothly."

"If everyone would just leave me alone, I could do everything perfectly," Gigi said so quietly, Harry had to strain to hear her. "I could even wipe the spittle from the corners of your mouth."

"Sorry?" Harry asked, his temper flaring at her disdainful words. "Do you have a problem with this job? Because I could easily ask you to find another position. I'm sure the American Embassy has many jobs open for Publicists."

Gigi narrowed her brown eyes at him. Harry felt his stomach squirm slightly. He didn't want to fire anyone on his first day. However, the girl Harry had felt so warm towards, even been entranced by, suddenly made him angry. Yet, he couldn't be completely angry, because she was still so commandingly beautiful.

"I don't have a problem with this job." She replied, barely opening her lips, but Harry could see that her teeth were gritted. "No, I have a problem with you. You don't seem to know how valuable an employee I am. In fact, there is a reason I'm not working at the Embassy. I came here because I am the best, and I intend to stay the best." Gigi walked back into the room and slammed her palms down on the front of her desk. Harry recoiled the slightest bit. But he noticed that she smelled of lilac and sandalwood and if he craned his neck just the slightest bit, he could see down her shirt… "I was supposed to be working for the Minister, not someone exactly my age, who has yet to accomplish something in the workplace." She stopped to breathe in, and it was obviously that she was full of rage and furious energy. "And you should know that you couldn't fire me, I would like to see you try. Because I am here to stay, pal. There's a reason I am so loved here and so valuable. And not even Harry Potter can take that away from me,"

"I can see that you're valuable," Harry replied hotly, rising from his seat, and planting a first on the mahogany surface of his desk. "Obviously, you are so powerful and important. Yes, that must be why they demoted you here. To work for someone your age who hasn't accomplished anything in the workplace. You're obviously extremely valuable." Gigi drew back, her jaw quivering in anger. "And here's something, pal," Harry spit. "You may be a good employee, but don't forget, I'm Harry Potter, something that may not make me confident or happy, but something that certainly gives me power. More than you have, anyway. Which, by definition, would mean that I could fire you, if I pleased." At once, Harry realized that he had gone too far. Gigi turned away from him, her dark hair spinning outwards, and stalked away from his office. She entered her own office and slammed the door so hard that the doorknob jiggled in the socket, and then fell out onto the floor.

Still too riled up to apologize, Harry grabbed his things and left his office, careful to avoid looking in the windows of Gigi's office, and took the lift down to the floo fireplaces. Harry rolled up his sleeves, threw the powder into the flames, and left the Ministry, leaving Gigi alone.

Gigi, on the other hand, flew into a rage. For the first time in the day, she lost all of her composure. Gigi screeched in a high-pitch, and then stomped her foot so hard that the heel of her Manolo Blahink broke off and rolled across the carpet. With another shriek, Gigi shoved the heel into her purse, grabbed her wand, and waved it, tidying up her office on command. She began to run to the lifts, quivering with rage.

How dare he? She squealed in anger and kicked at the lift doors as they opened to greet her. _Harry Potter. _What rubbish. She hated him! What an ass. He didn't realize how incredible she was, so he had obviously taken a stunning spell to many to the brain. Well, she would show him just how powerful she could be. Gigi reached the floo powder fireplace, took a handful of dust, threw it in the flames, and stepped inside, calling out her home address, her voice magnified with anger.

Meanwhile, Harry had just arrived at The Sphinx, the wizard's pub down the street from the Ministry. He ducked out of the fireplace and ducked around a group of warlocks, searching over the heads of the crowds for his own co-workers.

Finally, he spotted the receptionist, Effy, at the bar, grabbing up a glass of wine and a pint of beer.

"Oi, Effy!" He called, and Effy glanced up at him, a smile plastered on her face.

"Hey, boss," she shouted back over the noise. She held up a beer and gestured to the opposite of the room. "We're sitting at a table in the corner. Find us."

Harry nodded, and went up to the bar.

"Can I have a glass of Maplewood mead?" He asked the bartender, who nodded and pulled out a pint. Harry slapped a galleon down on the counter, and then accepted the glass. He twisted his way through the crowd and towards the corner of the room, where, sure enough, his co-workers were gathered.

"Hey, Harry," a familiar voice said. Harry's old friend, Lee Jordan, was sitting at the table, his arm thrown around Effy's shoulder. "Come on, budge up," Lee told Effy, who scooted over. Harry grinned at the people around the table and took the seat next to Effy.

"Anyone seen Gigi?" A stocky, dirty-blonde guy asked, and Harry strained to remember his name. Taylor, that was it.

"I don't think she's coming out tonight, Taylor," he said. Effy let out a slight sigh and the rest of the table chuckled.

"Taylor's had a thing for Gigi forever," Effy told Harry in a whisper. Harry, to avoid glaring fiercely at poor Taylor, threw back some of his drink. "It's not like she ever comes out, Taylor," Effy said, turning back to the table. "Don't get your hopes up."

"Why doesn't she come out?" Harry asked, his interest perked.

Effy and the rest of the workers looked curiously at Harry.

"She doesn't really talk to co-workers," a tall man with an earring told Harry. He shook his head. "She's a work-a-holic. Barely ever leaves the office. I think she might live there." A few people snickered.

"She's come to a few things," Effy said defensively. "Really, everyone. She's not a complete bitch. She's quite nice at times."

Harry arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh yeah?" He said aloud, remembering their encounter from earlier.

"Yes," Effy said. "She came to the company Christmas party last year. With that fiancée of hers…what was his name?"

Harry's heart dropped.

"Ian," Lee said.

"No, no," the guy with the earring interjected. "It was Ryan."

"Yeah, Ryan," the rest of the table echoed, and then took a gulp of their drinks.

"Does he work for the Ministry?" Harry asked casually. However, it didn't sound casual enough, because everyone glanced at him, looking surprised and curious. "I just can't see her dating anyone from the office," Harry explained hastily, and everyone nodded in agreement, satisfied with this explanation.

"No," Effy said. "She's from America, you know. He was her childhood sweetheart or something. It's really awful, they had a big fight once, and he went back there and she hasn't talked to him since."

"They broke up ages ago," Lee said. He glanced at Harry with a piercing and knowing gaze that made Harry uncomfortable. "It was big, but she's definitely done with that. Moved on and such."

Harry couldn't help but feel somewhat lighter at his words.

While Harry and the rest of the Aurors were out, celebrating a new term, Gigi returned home. She placed her purse on the front table, next to the vase containing a single lily, and then hung her jacket up in the hall closet. Gigi walked into the kitchen, and waved her wand, setting a pot to boil, and a box of ravioli to spring from the freezer and slide onto the counter. With a sigh, Gigi picked up the old-fashioned telephone that was glued to the wall and dialed her mother's number.

"Hello?" A child's voice answered on the other hand. Gigi smiled at the voice of her younger brother, Gabriel, who was just ten years old, almost eleven years younger than herself.

"Hi Gabe," she said into the phone. "Is mum there?"

"Gigi, why are you talking like that?" Gabe asked, laughing. "Its mom, not mum." But he dropped the phone and she could hear him calling out for her mother in the background.

"Hi sweetie," her mother answered a second later. She sounded frantic. "Listen, I'm really busy right now. I have to take Gabe to school and then drive into New York today. Can I call you back when things settle down?"

"Oh," Gigi said, tracing her initials on the marble countertop. "Sure mom. I'll talk to you later."

Without saying goodbye, Gigi's mother hung up the phone. Gigi replaced the phone in the receiver, and then picked it up again. This time, she dialed a different number.

"Hello, love!" A voice said upon picking up the phone. Gigi smiled into the receiver. She could always count on her dear old dad.

"Hi Dad," Gigi began. But then, right as the words came out of her mouth, there was a loud giggle on the other hand. Gigi paused. "Dad?" She asked in an even tone. "Who's there with you?"

"Uhhh." Her father paused, and she could hear him bark something in Russian. There was another loud giggle, and then a demure voice replied back in the guttural language. "Just Ivanka, dear."

"Oh gross," Gigi said. "Dad, you haven't got another 30 year old girlfriend, have you?"

"Of course not," her father replied. He paused again. "She's twenty eight."

"Oh, disgusting," Gigi murmured, and her father chuckled.

"Now, now." He said. "David Meyer doesn't get older, he gets looser. I'm just trying to have some fun, Gige."

"I know," Gigi muttered into the phone. "Hey, dad, listen. Do you have a sec? I need to talk to you about something work rela-"

"Oops. Sorry Gigi, I have to go. Ivanka's trying to make us breakfast…and she burnt it."

Her father hung up. Gigi still held the phone to her ear, listening to the dial tone. Exasperated, Gigi slammed the phone back into the receiver. She placed her hands over her face and screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

By the Friday of their first week of work, September 6th, Harry and Gigi both got up early. Gigi was up nearly at the crack of dawn so she could go out for her customary three-mile run, which she did every Friday. Harry woke up an hour later and rolled out of bed, just as Gigi returned home. In almost perfect synchronization, the two showered and dressed for the day, Harry in his slightly messy brick-walled bathroom and clothes-scattered bedroom, and Gigi in her always-pristine bathroom and walk-in closet.

At seven forty-five, Gigi slung the heel of her red stiletto on over her heel and picked up her purse. Harry snapped on his gold watch and straightened his hair. At seven forty-six, they both walked out the front doors of their homes, and then began to walk down the sidewalk. Usually, they would each take floo powder to the Ministry, but today was different. Today, Harry and Gigi were headed to Hogwarts for Harry's press conference.

Gigi, though it meant pairing up with Harry for the day, was excited. This was the first time she was going to be able to visit Hogwarts, in all her three years of living in the UK. It had been under renovation for the past few years, ever since the Battle Of Hogwarts, and Gigi was especially happy to be able to see the final, finished product.

Harry was nervous. He hated public speaking, because it meant he would have to sound strong and profound, when he really didn't feel that way. And speaking at Hogwarts was especially nerve wracking. He would be under the eye of all the students, as well as his old professors who he hadn't seen in years now. The eyes of the future generations would be scrutinizing him, and the thought made him shudder.

To top it off, he wasn't too pleased about spending the day with Gigi.

Ever since she had yelled at him Monday, she had been extraordinarily polite and quiet. She acted simply if he was not around, and if she could not see him. If absolutely forced to speak with him, she would do so without maintaining eye contact and used a tone that suggested she was in a hurry, so she wouldn't have to remain in his presence. Harry was infuriated by this, because although she had yelled and been rude, Harry had yelled back and been just as rude. He wanted to be able to apologize and befriend her. Maybe do more than that, because he still found her to be the most gorgeous creature he had ever encountered.

By eight o clock, Harry reached King's Cross Station. He maneuvered past the muggles and ran down to platform eight, subtly slipping through the barrier that blocked platform 9, squeezing onto platform 9 ¾.

Gigi was already there, waiting as the train conductor did his last minute check of the engine and brakes. The conductor slammed on the brakes, and as he did so, steam curled up from the tracks, spreading out around Gigi's ankles in a thin layer that made her look as if she was standing on a cloud. Harry's breath caught in his throat. She looked like an angel. At that moment, Gigi turned around to see Harry, standing by the entrance to the station, gaping at her. The station, which was filled with paparazzi already, ran towards Harry, snapping pictures with their cameras and shouting his name and calling out questions. Gigi burrowed her way through them, grabbed Harry's elbow and muttered:

"Don't answer any of the questions."

She turned back towards the paparazzi and smiled as they snapped more pictures and waited for Harry to speak.

"Mr. Potter is on his way to a press conference at Hogwarts School, as you all know too well. So I suggest that you take your press passes and meet us there, instead of asking him questions he has no comment to in the meantime."

The paparazzi exploded with more questions and took more pictures, but Gigi took a strong grip on Harry's elbow and pushed him through it, carving out a path through the crowd and then stepping on to the train.

With regret, Harry noticed that Gigi let go of his elbow as soon as the door closed behind them. She reached in her purse, and to his surprise, pulled out a small cell phone.

"The Minister's in the compartment at the end of the hall," she told him, tapping away on the small keys. "He needs to brief you on a few things."

She turned away, still looking at her phone screen, and entered another compartment, shutting the door firmly behind her and pulling down the shade over the window, so the paparazzi couldn't take pictures of her.

Harry walked down the familiar train corridor, and then pulled open the door to the compartment where he could see Kinsgley.

"Harry," Kingsley said affectionately, reaching out a hand to him. Harry seized it and shook it. "How are you?"

"Great," Harry replied. "Yeah, bit nervous, but otherwise, I'm doing great."

Kingsley grinned and adjusted the gold hoop that hung through his earlobe. "Always the modest guy."

"What can I say?" Harry replied, and they laughed. When the laughter subsided, Kingsley stuck his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Well, I'll be straightforward here. I always meet with the heads of departments before a press conference because I want to get intentions straight. Today, you need to be on-topic. Don't let reporters rile you up. We're talking about children's safety, okay? The extra security measures and everything Hogwarts has concocted…talk about that"

"Got it," Harry said, growing more nervous by the second.

"I have…" Kingsley reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of note cards. "Some topics…prepared by my speechwriter. You can read off these if you want."

Harry hesitated, and then reached out for the note cards. "Thanks," he told Kingsley, relieved. He tucked them in his breast pocket.

"Oh," Kingsley said, looking at his watch. "Listen, I gotta run. But good luck." He clapped Harry on the arm and began to leave, but then paused to look back at him. "No pressure, but there's going to be a lot of articles on this…so make it count, Harry." He grinned and then walked away.

Harry exhaled deeply and closed his eyes, his heart pounding. He had just begun to sit when the train lurched, and he fell into his seat. The train began to pick up pace, moving at a fast rate. Harry had just closed his eyes and began to relax when the door to the compartment slid open.

"Harry?" The assistant to the head of Security was standing in the doorway. She blushed when he smiled at her. "Sorry, but we need some more compartments open for the reporters and everything…would you mind moving in with Gigi?"

"What?" Harry asked stupidly.

"Moving into a compartment with Gigi," the assistant re-iterated, blushing more deeply.

"Oh," Harry said. "Yeah, sure." Harry gathered his thoughts and rocked to his feet, moving past the assistant and out into the hallway. He cautiously approached Gigi's compartment and slid open the door.

She was talking into her cell phone.

"…so just give me a call when you get this." She was looking out the window and didn't seem to hear Harry enter. Her voice shook slightly. "I haven't heard from you in a while Dad." She paused. "Give my love to Ivanka, or whatever 20-year-old Russian model you're dating this week."

Gigi pressed the red button down on her phone, and then looked away from the window. She started when she saw Harry, and held her hand to her beating heart.

"Oh god," she said. "You scared me. Jesus."

"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly. He crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him and took a seat on the opposite bench. Gigi crossed her long legs and looked at him expectantly. She raised a thin eyebrow. "Uh…they needed more compartments for the reporters."

"Right," Gigi said in a bossy tone. She began to rummage in her purse. She pulled out her cell phone, made a frustrated noise, and threw it back in the bag. "No service," she muttered to herself.

"You won't get any for the rest of the day," Harry informed her, picking up a newspaper off the seat next to him. "There's too much magic in the air, it causes muggle technology to go haywire."

"What are you, some kind of expert?" Gigi asked with a short laugh.

Harry felt himself blush slightly. "It's in _Hogwarts a History_. Though, I have to admit, I never actually read the book." Silence fell in the compartment.

"I have," Gigi finally offered with a tentative smile. Harry could hardly believe it. It was the first time he had gotten her to smile and it was beautiful.

"Important phone call?" He asked, nodding to her purse, and immediately, Gigi sobered. Immediately, he wished he hadn't asked.

"Just my dad," Gigi said quietly. She nudged her purse away from her. "I'm kind of worried about him."

"Oh?"

Gigi looked down at her lap.

"You don't have to-" Harry began hastily, but she interrupted him.

"No, it's okay. I…he's been going through a hard time. He and my mom divorced when I was really young. And as he's gotten older…well he's acted younger. He has a new girlfriend every week. Usually someone the same age as me or younger." Gigi pulled a face. "I think he's still broken up about my mom…she was really young when they got married, and I think he's trying to replace her."

"Ah," Harry said quietly. "Well, I can't really give any advice, since both my parents are gone…but maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he isn't trying to replace your mom, per se, but fill the spot she had in his life."

"Huh," Gigi said, cocking her head. "I hadn't thought of that."

Harry nodded and returned to his newspaper. But when silence filled the compartment once more, he threw it aside.

"Tell me about it all." He said, crossing his arms.

Gigi looked up from her book, a surprised expression written over her features.

"Sorry?"

"Well, you're my co-worker." Harry paused to see how she would react, but she didn't seem to react at all. "I don't know anything about you, except that you're American, you're obviously dedicated, and your dad dates some really young people."

Gigi grinned. "Observant," she noted. "Okay, I guess. But you have to tell me about you…I don't know too much about you, either."

This surprised Harry, but at the same time, he was reasonably relieved. He nodded in agreement, and Gigi began to speak.

"I was born in Boston," she began. "Right outside it, actually, in a town called Chapel Hill, Massachusetts. I grew up as an only child with my mom and dad. And right from the beginning, it wasn't exactly a great household. My mom was only twenty when she had me, and my dad was nearly forty. They fought a lot about how I should be raised." Gigi stopped and looked out the window. "They divorced when I was six. My dad moved into the city and my mom got a job as a seamstress. I was raised as a muggle-born, until I was eight, when The Salem Witch Academy contacted my mom. She sat me down and told me that my grandmother had been a witch, and apparently, so was I. The gene had skipped a generation. But it didn't matter, really, because my mom was perfectly happy being normal. Anyway, I moved to Salem. My mom got re-married when I was sixteen, and when I hit age seventeen, I graduated with honors and moved to London, when I got a job as a publicist with the Ministry." She smiled down at her hands. "My job is everything. I feel in control, and that feeling is truly the best. I think I got that from my mom. And now, I have a step-dad and a little brother, Gabriel. He's eight." Gigi paused and blushed. "I don't really talk about myself a lot."

"It's okay." Harry leaned forward in his seat. "I liked hearing about you." He remembered what Effy and the others had told him about her fiancée and was slightly intrigued…she had left that out completely.

"Tell me about yourself," Gigi said, changing the subject.

"Born here, raised here," Harry began. "You…you probably know that my parents died when I was a baby. Yeah. I was raised by my mum's sister and her husband, and then started at Hogwarts when I was eleven. In my seventh year, I dropped out and uh…traveled for a year. I was the one who killed Voldemort," Harry added on. "After that, I did my Auror training and came to work for the Ministry."

Gigi hangs her head. "I knew all that," she confesses. She raises her head to look at him and is struck by the vibrancy of Harry's eyes. "I just wanted to hear it from you. I've read so many things…It's hard to tell what's true and what isn't."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the opening of the compartment door.

"Anything from the trolley?" The elderly woman who had pushed the trolley during his school years was still working for the train. She had a cart filled to the top with magical treats, and Harry's mouth watered.

"A water, please," Gigi ordered. "And a salad, if you've got Caesar." Harry gave her a questionable look, and Gigi looked confused.

"A few cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs and bertie botts," Harry ordered, pulling out money from his pocket.

"What's that?" Gigi asked, watching as the woman began to deposit the items on the seat next to Harry.

"Food," he replied simply, handing her a galleon, and then shutting the door. Gigi leaned forward and picked up a chocolate frog.

"What's this?" She asked. She undid the wrapping, and screamed as the frog jumped from it's wrapping and onto the window. Still stunned, she let out a small laugh, and Harry chuckled.

"What, they don't have chocolate frogs in America?"

"No," Gigi answered, watching as the frog made it's way up the window. "We have all kinds of stuff, but I've never seen that."

Once again, the compartment door slid open to reveal the assistant Harry had met earlier.

"We're going to arrive in just a few minutes," she warned the two of them with a cautious smile.

"Shoot," Gigi said, standing up so abruptly that the chocolate frog card fluttered to the ground. She left the compartment and started down the hallway, leaving Harry alone. Slowly, Harry gathered the food and placed it on the overhead compartment, and then took the note cards out of his pocket, and began reading over them. A few minutes later, Gigi returned, her hair combed and with a shiny layer of lip-gloss.

"What's that?" She asked Harry, nodding to the note cards.

"Kingsley gave them to me," Harry said. "I needed some pointers."

"Are they pointers or a speech?" Gigi asked, and unless it was Harry's imagination, her voice suddenly grew frosty.

"I…it's the speech," Harry admitted as the train screeched to a stop. Gigi stood from her seat, looking haughty, and swept from the compartment. Harry glanced down at the note cards and felt like throwing them out the window. Gigi was already off the train, greeting the groundskeeper, Hagrid. But her mind was on Harry. Just when she had started to warm up to him…he insulted work ethic. Not even writing his own speech…what a shame.

Thirty minutes later, roughly around noon, the group of reporters, Harry, Gigi, and the security staff from the Ministry made it to the castle. In the Great Hall, there was a podium for Harry to speak at, and the house tables were lined with people, including the parents of the students.

"Just remember," Gigi told Harry as they reached the front of the room. Harry felt increasingly anxious, and it didn't help how glacial her voice sounded. "Glance all around the room. Making eye contact and speaking slowly is impressive."

Harry nodded, and then looked at the whispering students and felt his stomach contract.

"I hate speeches," he said in a low voice. "I hate speaking. They make me out to be so important when I'm not."

Gigi didn't refute this view, but said in a nasty tone: "Just stick to Kingsley's speech and you'll be fine." Harry looked at her and her brown eyes snapped angrily. Nervously, Harry turned away and began to make his way to the podium, nervously tripping over his own feet.

"Hello, everyone." Harry spoke into the magically magnified microphone and his voice reverberated off the walls, coming back to him. He paused, letting that sink in. "For those of you who don't know, I'm Harry Potter." There was a small out break of applause. "I've been recently made the head of the Auror office, and I'm here today to discuss elementary safety concerning the students of Hogwarts." At this point, Harry reached to his breast pocket, where the note cards lay in waiting, but then paused. Just visible in his peripheral vision was Gigi, looking straight ahead. Her jaw was set and she looked haughty. He drew his hand away from his breast pocket and took a rattling breath. "I don't have a speech prepared today…" he started. Gigi looked up at him, surprised, her eyes wide.

For the first time in the week, Gigi listened long and hard as Harry spoke. And for the first time since coming to the Auror office, she was proud to have Harry Potter as a boss.

When he was done with his speech and answered the questions of the reporters, Harry shook hands with the staff and a few of the students and signed some autographs. He looked up from signing a first-years textbook and realized that Gigi was gone.

"Professor," he said, addressing Professor McGonagall, who stood by proudly. "Have you seen my publicist?"

"Miss Meyers?" Harry nodded. "She slipped out of the hall a few moments ago. She was headed towards the grounds, I believe."

"Thanks," Harry said, touching her elbow. He squeezed past the reporters and the masses of students and headed out of the Great Hall. He pushed open the doors to the castle and looked around. Gigi was nowhere to be seen. He stopped in the courtyard and glanced around. On the suspension bridge that overlooked the gorge between the grounds and the castle was a slim form, just visible as it looked out over the railings. Harry began to jog uphill, past the owlry and onto the bridge. Gigi turned to look at him, smiling.

"You went a different direction," she commented when he slowed to a walk, just a few feet from her. "I admire that. Your speech was well done."

"A compliment?" Harry asked in a teasing tone. He leaned out over the railing and looked out over the grounds as well. "What a surprise."

"Don't get used to it," Gigi replied smartly, smoothing her bangs. "It doesn't happen often." Harry cracked a smile. "It's really beautiful here," Gigi said.

"It's my favorite place in the world," Harry told her.

"Salem Academy was just a clump of grey-stone buildings, a bonfire, and a few ash trees," Gigi lamented. "If only I had gone to school here."

"If only," Harry repeated, and there was a definite tone of longing in his voice. Gigi didn't seem to notice, but instead watched an owl swoop down over the Quidditch Pitch.

"Miss Meyers, Mr. Potter," a voice interrupted. Professor McGonagall was running up the hill towards them. Gigi turned to her, her hair ruffling slightly in the breeze. "I'm so sorry," Professor McGonagall said. "It seems that there was a mix-up, and the train has already left."

"What?" Gigi asked. "What are we supposed to do? I need to be in London tonight."

"Professor," Harry began. "Surely there's some way we can apparate?"

"I'm sorry, Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "The new security measures don't allow anyone to exit or enter the campus after four o clock on weekdays…and it's four thirty."

"Shit," Gigi said bitterly, and McGonagall raised her eyebrows.

"We can, however, provide lodgings for the two of you tonight." Professor McGonagall said. "There was space available at the Hog's Head." She paused. "However, there was only one room available. Two beds, but one room."

"I…" Gigi said. She looked at Harry's profile, and then sighed. "Yeah, that's fine."

It took all Harry had not to punch his fist in the air.


	4. Chapter 4

The Hog's Head looked exactly like how it sounded. Gigi and Harry were booked for room #12, though Gigi could hardly believe the place even had twelve rooms, because really, who would want to stay there?

Their room was small and shabby, with peeling gray paint and narrow beds equipped with thin blankets that looked as if had been chewed away by moths. There was a lamp that looked as if it hadn't been dusted in twenty-five years, and a small bathroom with a chipped-tile tub and an old mirror with tinted edges.

Harry noted with delight that the beds were pushed so close together that they were nearly one.

Gigi noted the same thing with an uncomfortable feeling brewing in her gut. She had excused herself from Harry's presence around dinnertime, so that she could walk around Hogsmeade by herself. She wandered from Dervish and Bangs down to Madam Malkin's, where she purchased a nightgown and a new set of robes. She amused herself by viewing the Shrieking Shack as night fell, hoping to catch a sight of one of the spirits that supposedly haunted it, but by nine, she was so tired that she returned to the Hog's Head. Gripping her shopping bags, Gigi made her way up the rickety staircase and to her room. Without thinking, Gigi pushed open the door without knocking.

Harry was in the corner, stark naked.

"Oh my god," Gigi squealed, dropping her shopping bags. Harry let out a small shout of surprise and Gigi covered her eyes with her French-manicured hand. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she apologized profusely, quickly stepping inside and closing the door.

"It's okay," Harry said quickly. Gigi stood awkwardly in the doorway, her hand over her eyes. Out of pure curiosity, she couldn't help but peak through the slats of light that flooded between her fingers. Harry wasn't completely naked now; he had managed to pull on some underwear, but was still putting on a T-shirt. Gigi noticed with some surprise that Harry had a nice body, much nicer than…well, she wasn't about to go to that place. He might have been thin, but Harry's muscles were defined enough to bulge slightly below the surface of his skin.

"I'm done," Harry announced, pulling on his shirt, and Gigi nearly tumbled over with surprise at his voice. She felt herself blushing, as if she had been caught in the act of lurking. But it wasn't as if she had anything to hide. After all, she wasn't attracted him. Not in the slightest. Even though his eyes were nice. And his body. And she had always been a sucker for guys with black hair. But it didn't matter. It was Harry. And therefore, Gigi knew she couldn't and wouldn't be attracted to him.

"I'm really sorry about that," she apologized again, picking up her shopping bags. Harry slipped on his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "If it helps, I didn't see…I didn't see anything."

"It's really okay," Harry told her. "You covered your eyes, so…" He trailed off and cleared his throat. Gigi deposited her bags on her bed and pulled the nightgown from the wrappings. "Did you have a good time in the village?"

"Yes," Gigi responded, glad for the change of subject. "It's my brother's birthday next week, so I got him some things at Dervish and Bangs."

"Is he like us?" Harry grinned. "It would be a sight to see a muggle eat ice mice or use a joke wand."

"Oh, he's like us," Gigi said, folding her robes and tucking the shopping bags under her bed. "He was able to do a protean charm last year. He's a genius. Schools are fighting over him."

"Wow," Harry replied, impressed.

"Yeah," Gigi said, beaming with pride. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm going to go change." She jerked her thumb to the bathroom. "Don't worry," she said, turning at the doorway. "I'll lock the door so we don't have another incident."

And sure enough, Harry heard the lock slide into place behind her.

By ten 'o clock, they were both ready for bed. Harry was nearly quivering with nerves as he slid into his bed. He was so close to her; their mattresses were lined up so that the sides touched each other. As he slipped beneath the covers, Gigi emerged from the bathroom, wearing her new nightgown, which reached mid-thigh, and was made of a sheer, lilac lace. Harry noticed (with a wave of desire) that her body was almost completely visible underneath, and that only her breasts and crotch were blocked from view, thanks to a thick layering of the lace.

"Ugh," Gigi said, lifting aside her covers. She reached over a nightstand and picked up her wand and directed it at the sheets. There was a bang and a cloud of white smoke, and Harry saw a bunch of little brown bugs fly out from under the blankets and hit the wall opposite, splattering the fading wallpaper. "Bedbugs." And without another word, she leapt into her bed and pulled the covers up so that they nearly reached her chin. She turned over on her side, her back away from him.

Harry noticed that her shoulder blades stuck out the tiniest bit and she had a small red scar on her left shoulder. With a small gulp, and a dose of courage, Harry reached out and touched it.

"What's that?" He asked, and with pride, he noted that his voice didn't shake as he asked.

Gigi, on the other hand, felt Harry's hand touch the scar on her back and trembled. It had been so long since someone touched her there. She turned over to face Harry and tucked her hands beneath her head.

"It's a long story," she said. Gigi looked into Harry's eyes and felt her stomach squirm. "It was something that happened when I was younger."

Harry pulled up his bangs to reveal the scar on his forehead, the scar that made him internationally famous. "It's a long story. It was something that happened when I was a kid." He smirked the slightest bit and Gigi smirked back.

"Fine," she said. She ran a hand through her hair. "When I was a teenager, I got a tattoo. It was really stupid. I was out one night with my best friend at the time. We got really drunk and I ended up going to a tattoo parlor and I had a bird tattooed on my back. A dove. I had it removed a few years later, because I hated it."

"Why a dove?" Harry asked quietly.

"You know that story in the bible?" Gigi asked. "How after the flood, Noah sent out a dove, and it returned with an olive branch?" Harry nodded. "I always felt like that dove. Like I had a lot of pressure on me." Gigi shrugged. "Getting the tattoo took some of the pressure off, because getting it was something no one expected me to do."

"And your friend?" Harry asked with a grin. "What did she get?"

"He," Gigi corrected. Her face fell and Harry realized he had said something wrong. "He got my name on his arm." Gigi turned away and breathed out heavily.

She suddenly felt awkward. She had been experiencing something she hadn't in a few years. A sense of being able to talk and have someone listen and being able to connect. And then, he had brought up Ryan. Ryan, he best friend. Ryan, the blonde haired, blue-eyed, Quidditch playing love of her life. Ryan, who had left her. Ryan who never wanted to see her again. Gigi felt like crying.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. He knew something had just happened, but what, he wasn't sure. He wasn't ready to screw up further, so instead, he flopped over onto his back and took off his glasses and placed them gently on the side table.

"Good night," he said quietly. At first, Gigi didn't answer. But as he drifted off, he thought he heard her reply.

The next morning, Gigi awoke at the crack of dawn. She woke with a yawn, and then stretched out her legs. With surprise, she blinked and realized that she wasn't in her room. She was about to panic when she remembered the events of the previous evening, and relaxed. It was then that Gigi realized that she wasn't alone. Harry was asleep next to her, silent and still. He had moved towards her in his sleep, so his body was right on the gorge where the two mattresses met. His arm was casually thrown over her side, his hand curled so that it nearly cupped her arm. Gigi felt her skin prickle at his touch, and she paused, unsure of what to do. A few days before, she would have knocked his hand aside and maybe slapped him. But instead, Gigi lay back down and closed her eyes. She fell asleep instantly.

It was Harry who woke up next. He looked around, his eyes blurred, and then reached out, managing to find his glasses and slam them on his face. Next to him lie Gigi, breathing so lightly that she managed to stir only one strand of hair that fell in front of her face. Harry realized that his arm was thrown over her body, and he hastily, and yet, reluctantly, took his arm away. How creepy, he thought, would Gigi find him if she woke up to find his arm around her?

Harry quickly rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower. As soon as the water started, Gigi's eyes fluttered open to the sound. The first image that came to her head was Harry's arm, how it had curled around hers. She shivered at the thought, because oddly enough, it filled her with some kind of thrill. And then she remembered whose arm it had been. Harry. Her boss. Why was she feeling this way, thinking these thoughts about the one person who was unavailable to her? She couldn't date her boss…Gigi wasn't even sure she could stand to think about Harry in that way, even at all.

Gigi rolled out of bed and began to prepare for the train ride back to London.

When she arrived home later that day, nearly at four 'o clock, the first thing Gigi did was check her answering machine, in case her father had returned her call. He hadn't. Instead, there was a message from her old friend, Olivia Baker, a classmate from Salem who had just moved to Surrey a few months ago.

"Hi Gige, it's me, Olivia." Gigi picked up her younger brother's present from Dervish and Bangs (a never-stopping bouncing ball) and began to wrap it, turning her wand over in the air so that blue wrapping paper bloomed from the tip and encased the ball. "Just wanted to remind you of our plans for tonight." Gigi paused. "I know you probably forgot. We have that double date tonight? You, Peter, his friend and me…what's his name. Honey," Olivia yelled and Gigi winced. "What's your friend's name? The one we set Gigi up with? Oh, yeah, Logan. Eight 'o clock. That place next to the Leaky Cauldron…the Horizons? I think that's it." Gigi's finger hovered over the red button that read delete. Olivia sighed. "Please don't back out tonight, Gige. I think this could be good for you. Seriously, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Gigi scoffed lightly, but withdrew her hand. "Eight o clock. Okay. See you then." Olivia's message ended.

Gigi let out a small snarl of frustration. She was getting set up on a blind date. She hated, loathed, blind dates. She had been set up on a just a few in her life, two, to be exact, and they had been the worst evenings she had ever had. Ryan, her former fiancée, had filled the gap for four years, and then decided that she wasn't right for him and had left her broken hearted. Gigi didn't even want to consider dating. That is…the thought of Harry floated to the front of her mind, but she quickly pushed it away.

So, that evening, Gigi reluctantly headed to Horizons and arrived promptly at eight. She had almost put no effort into her appearance, besides changing from her robes to a tight-fitting, short red dress. But she was tired and hadn't bothered to change her hair or make-up, or even put on new jewelry.

"Gigi!" Someone called as she entered the restaurant. Peter and Olivia were sitting in a booth, and across from them was the mystery man Gigi only knew as their friend Logan. Logan stood up to greet her with a stupid, simpering smile that Gigi wanted to slap off his tanned face. He was tall, blonde, tan and blue-eyed. He was gorgeous. And Gigi couldn't stand him.

"I hope you haven't ordered yet," Gigi said, approaching the booth. "Sorry if I'm late." Though everyone knew she wasn't late. Gigi hadn't been late a day in her life. She hugged Olivia and Peter, and then stuck out her hand to Logan. Rather than shaking her hand, he kissed her on the cheek. Gigi wanted to vomit. He smelled of shaving cream and beer.

"So," Logan said as she sat down at the booth. Gigi placed her purse delicately down on the seat between them, creating a barrier. "How did you meet Olivia? Do you work together?"

"No," Olivia said before Gigi could reply. "No, Gigi works at the Ministry."

"Really?" Logan asked. "Wow."

"Yeah," Gigi said in a blank monotone, avoiding eye contact. "It's stressful." She beckoned the waitress over, and Olivia closed her eyes, as if in pain. "I'll have a glass of the house wine," she ordered. The waitress nodded and scuttled away, and Gigi turned back to the table. "We met at Salem."

"That's funny," Logan said with a smile. "I have a friend who went to Salem."

"Oh really? Who?" Olivia asked at the same time Gigi said:

"Well that's not surprising. It's a huge school."

Olivia shot Gigi a death glare, and Gigi grabbed a roll from the breadbasket and shoved a piece of bread in her mouth.

"Uh, Janice Trump? She was a distant cousin of my mother."

"Oh, I think I met her," Olivia said, but Gigi knew she was lying just to be nice and to keep the conversation alive. The waitress brought Gigi's glass of wine and she began to gulp it down. Olivia glared even more fiercely.

"What kind of work do you do, Gigi?" Logan smiled and turned his body towards her, resting his arm on the back of the booth.

"I'm a publicist." Gigi said shortly, looking into her glass. "And you?" Olivia and Peter joined hands. Gigi felt like screaming.

"I work for a ad agency," Logan said. "We do all the ads in Hogsmeade and other villages…" He began to explain further, and Gigi spaced out, her eyes glazing over slightly as she began to look around the restaurant. Then, looking past the steaming plates of food and the chattering people, she spotted something. At the bar was a very familiar looking, scruffy haired guy, sitting next to a bushy-haired girl. The guy laughed, and Gigi could just spot his profile. It was Harry. She felt like panicking, but instead, she froze up on the spot.

"Gigi?" Olivia asked, breaking her reverie.

"What?" Gigi responded quickly. Apparently, she was louder than she had intended to be, for the whole restaurant turned to stare at her. Faintly, she heard someone set down a glass on the bar countertop. "Sorry," Gigi apologized, blushing slightly. Peter leaned back in his seat, grinning and Gigi rolled her eyes.

"Gigi?" A voice sounded out just as the buzz of the restaurant began to build up once more. Gigi glanced up from the stem of her wineglass. Harry was standing next to their table; his coat slung over one arm. Next to him was the bushy haired girl, who smiled down at Gigi over the collar of the starched collar of her purple dress.

"Oh, Harry," Gigi said, attempting to sound off-hand. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked lightly. He looked directly into her eyes and Gigi felt as if she was falling into them, into a never-ending spectrum of green. She could stay there forever and be perfectly happy.

"Dinner with friends," Gigi said, coughing and looking away. She pointed to each person as she introduced them. "This is Olivia, Peter…and um…" her voice trailed off. Harry had to try to conceal his smile of amusement.

"Logan," the tall, muscular blonde supplied.

"Right," Gigi said dismissively. "Everyone…this is my…this is my boss," she struggled to say the word. "My boss. Harry Potter."

"This is Hermione Granger," Harry said, smiling at the group. He slung an arm around Hermione's waist, and Gigi froze, staring at _that_ hand on _that _waist.

"We should probably get going," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"Okay," Harry responded. He turned away from her to look at Gigi, but addressed the whole table. "Good night, everyone. It was nice to meet you."

They all responded jovially, except for Gigi. She simply stared up at him, her eyes blank. Harry felt inclined to say something, but then refrained, walking away with an arm around Hermione.

"Really, Harry," Hermione said as soon as they stepped foot outside the restaurant. "I think the baby will be fine. You don't need to escort me every second of the walk." She patted her belly, and under the dress, Harry could see the shadow of a bump.

"Have you and Ron decided what to name it, then?" He fell into step along Hermione, his hands in his pockets.

"No," Hermione replied, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "I was thinking something like…Gigi?"

Harry's head shot up at her words. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm joking," Hermione replied, and Harry felt himself blush. "But Harry. You're so obvious! You like her."

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "I like her a lot."

"Ask her out then," Hermione retorted. She stopped on the corner and confronted Harry by tapping him on the head. "She won't say no."

"She could," Harry said. "You don't know her."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry. I'm a girl. I know girls. And the way she looked at you…she won't say no." Harry hesitated and shrugged. "Go on," Hermione urged. "I'm going to apparate home. I'll tell Ron you said hello."

"What do I say?" Harry suddenly asked her, feeling his nerves mount.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said with a laugh. "What ever comes to mind will be perfectly lovely." And then with a snap, she was gone. Harry exhaled a gust of breath, and gathered his nerves. He could do this. He liked her, and she was close by, and Hermione said she liked him. It was easy enough, wasn't it? Harry rubbed his hands together. For godssake, he had practically slept in the same bed with her. He could do this. Harry jogged around the corner and back up the street, slipping back through the door to Horizons. He wove his way through a few tables and past a tray full of what looked like squirming bits of calamari until he was in front of Gigi's table. She was gone, but her friends were still there. The tall one, Logan, looked upset and her friend Olivia looked angry.

"Hi again," Harry said, leaning forward, and they all jumped at his appearance. "Sorry to interrupt, but is Gigi here?"

"No," Olivia replied, sipping her water.

"The loo?" Harry asked, and Davis shook his head.

"Gigi went home," Olivia told Harry, her voice steely. "Said she had too much to do for work." She glared at him.

"Oh," Harry stuttered. "That's not possible…we have no press conferences next week."

Logan groaned and Olivia looked to the ceiling.

"Goddamn," she muttered. "Damn you Gigi." She looked back up at Harry and forced a smile. "Sorry. She would be at home."

Harry stuck his hands in his pocket. "Do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?" He asked of Olivia. She looked rather surprised, but stood up and followed Harry to the back of the restaurant. "I'm sorry to drag you away from your meal," Harry began. "But I need to know something about Gigi."

"Okay," Olivia said slowly, arching an eyebrow.

"Is she…" Harry struggled for the words. "She isn't dating anyone, is she?"

"No," Olivia confirmed and Harry let out a small gust of breath. "She isn't exactly looking to date, either." Olivia sighed and looked back to her table. Logan was standing up and putting his coat on. "I push her sometimes. She had her heart broken, so I want her to get better." She shut her mouth and furrowed her brow and then looked back to Harry. "I know you're into her. It's fairly obvious, given how you looked at her. But don't ask her out. She won't be able to handle it, even if she does like you." Olivia gave Harry a tight-lipped smile and held out a hand. "It was nice to meet you, but I have to go."

"Right," Harry said, shaking her hand while his heart sunk. "Nice to meet you." Olivia left and went back to Peter. Harry shook his head and exited the restaurant. He began to walk home by himself, avoiding stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk.

Gigi had already returned home. The alcohol had gone to her brain, making her slightly angrier than she had been earlier. Gigi clumsily opened the front door to her house and then slammed it shut. She stumbled over to the kitchen counter and pulled open one of the turquoise-handled drawers. She shuffled through the neat stacks of color coded notes until she found what she was looking for, a small scrap of yellow paper. Gigi slammed down the paper on the granite counter-top and picked the phone up out of its cradle. Looking down at the paper, she punched in the numbers, and then shoved the phone up to her ear. The number on the other end rang once, twice, a third time, a fourth time, and then went to voicemail. There was a loud beep, and then Gigi began to speak, stuttering the slightest bit.

"It's me," she sang into the phone. "I just…I wanted to say that guess what? I thought I moved on from you." Gigi paused and a drunken tear fell from her eye. "I thought I found someone that I could get on with and I wanted to tell you. He's not like you at all. I hated him at first, and I'm still so confused." Gigi laughed in a maniacal tone. "And then I found out he was dating someone. Yep. Typical, right? It would happen to me." She paused again. "I don't want to say I miss you because it's not exactly true. But I wish my best friend was here."

Gigi gently put the phone back in its cradle and put her head down on her forearms. She willed herself not to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

The moment Harry entered the Ministry the next Monday morning he was plagued with work. He didn't have a moment to even see Gigi or speak to her in between scanning the files on his desk and speaking with each of his advisors and the other Aurors.

It seemed that there had been an outbreak of wizarding murders in Bristol and in Manchester, all in similar styles. All murders committed were done to families of three, the father was slain, then the mother, and finally the child. The children were all boys of a young age, either one or two.

"There's trying to re-create the scene under which my parents were murdered," Harry explained to Taylor, who was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Harry's desk. "These wizards were all talented and high-profile." Harry ran a hand down the front of his face in frustration. "George Bryant, a editor at the Daily Prophet." Harry threw down a file. "Kevin Broadmoor, a beater for the Falmouth Falcons." He threw down another file. "Alex Salamandar, Dustin Rambach, Sean Picolli." Harry threw down each of their files down on his desk, one on top of the others. He paused, and then opened another file. "There's a link between all of these," he said.

Taylor leaned forward in his chair. "I noticed that too. They were all part of the Potter Alliance."

Harry hung his head and sighed deeply. He hated the fact that they had all joined a group in his name during the Wizarding War. He hated the fact that more likely than not, they had died because of their membership.

"Magical Law Enforcement sent over pictures," Taylor said, breaking the silence. He picked up a box from the ground and set it on the other empty chair. "The positions of the victims are all the same. Father near the door." Harry's heart dropped. "No wand on him. Wife upstairs, in the nursery. We found that if she wasn't there, if she tried to go elsewhere, she was dragged to the nursery and placed in front of the crib." Harry winced. "And the baby…"

"In the crib, yes," Harry supplied hastily. His stomach turned over at the sick thought, the sick image that floated into his mind. He wiped at the corners of his mouth. "I'd like you and Adkins to check it out. Head over to Bristol first, check out the houses there, and see if you can spot anything Magical Law Enforcement didn't. Maybe check around the neighborhood. Dig around. Okay?" Taylor nodded, stood up, and exited Harry's office. He gestured to a tall, muscular man who sat in the cubicle closest to the entrance of the office. The two of them apparated on the spot.

Harry tried to qualm his churning stomach by leaning back in his chair. But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was a flash of green light and high pitched, maniacal laughter. Harry's eyelids snapped open at once. He stood up and shook out his arms and legs, and then decided to get himself a glass of water.

Harry had just begun to fill a glass of water when someone surprised him.

"Harry?" Gigi had approached him abruptly, and Harry jumped, slopping water all over the sink and the counter. Gigi gave him an alarmed look. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Harry replied hastily, setting down his glance with a loud clunk. He grabbed a dishtowel and began to mop at the spill, but Gigi lazily waved her wand and cleared it away. "I'm a bit out of it," Harry admitted. "I was just looking over the new case files."

Immediately, Gigi felt a bit queasy. She had looked over the files as well, and she couldn't get the sight of the lifeless bodies out of her head. Especially those of the children. The images of them crossed her mind almost every minute.

"They're horrible," Gigi said quietly, and Harry was surprised to see she was shaking. But then she cleared her throat and handed Harry the planner she had given him the week before. "I filled out your schedule for the week. By tomorrow, you're going to have a press conference about this. You've been in office only a week and people have started killing already? There's five murders and you're going to need to show that you're doing something to stop it."

"I have Taylor and Artie Adkins out in Bristol right now," Harry told her, accepting the planner. Gigi nodded in a stern sort of manner and then made to leave. "Hey, wait," Harry said, grabbing onto her arm. Gigi looked down at his hand, which was clamped around her wrist, and Harry immediately released her.

Gigi felt her stomach turn over when Harry had touched her. Not in a way that someone would experience if they had the flu, but a good stomach flop. His hand had zapped her skin, as if there was electricity was in his veins. But then Gigi remembered what she had seen Saturday night, with the bushy haired girl from Horizons. How Harry had put his arm around her waist, just as easily as he had put his arm around Gigi while he had been asleep.

"Yes?" Gigi asked.

"You left the restaurant pretty early Saturday," Harry said quietly, now refilling his glass of water. Gigi felt herself turn red and she wanted to squirm.

"Uh, yeah, I did," she said awkwardly. Harry looked at her expectantly, but when she didn't say anything, he pushed further.

"Your date looked pretty broken up about it…"

"That wasn't my date," Gigi spat angrily, before realizing Harry was kidding. He grinned at her and held up his free hand.

"I guessed, since you left him sitting there to be the third wheel."

Gigi shrugged and looked out into the office. "I wasn't interested in him. He wasn't my type."

Harry nodded, the corners of his mouth turned down in a non-committed train of thought.

"You have a type?" "Everyone has a type," Gigi said softly. She raised one eyebrow at Harry, and then turned away and slipped back into her office. Harry watched her go, feeling utterly bemused.

Over the next three weeks, Harry felt as if he was slowly being sent out to sea without a life preserver. His work had increased heavily. It seemed as if the copycat murderer was set on destroying both Harry's morale and his career. No less than fifteen family murders had occurred now, the last five in London, all within a mile's distance of the Ministry. The killer was taunting Harry, playing a game of cat and mouse.

Gigi was also playing a game, though Harry thought of it more like hide-and-seek. When she saw Harry, she wouldn't acknowledge him, and if she did, it was with a small, curt nod. She spent most of her time in her office, and ate alone. Harry wasn't sure why she was acting the way she did. After all, he thought they were on the road to becoming friends, and he had hoped for more.

Gigi didn't trust herself around people. This was just exemplified by her insipid human feelings. Gigi hated them, and felt like she should have just been born as a robot. She was confused and scared by her attraction Harry. Yes, she had gained the courage to admit she was attracted to him, but she wasn't about to act on it. Gigi preferred a no-drama, no hassle, no commitment life, and she planned on keeping it that way. However, almost every time Gigi saw Harry, she was consumed by this raw desire to just reach out and touch him, whether it be on the cheek or his neck or his wrist. She remembered the way his fingers had played along her back and could feel herself blush. Gigi scolded herself every time she did this.

And it wasn't as if she didn't have other things to worry about. With the amount of murders increasing in the area, Gigi's job was on overload. There were reporters at the Ministry everyday, and Gigi was in charge of setting up appointments and interviews and press conferences for both Harry and the entire Auror office, as well as Magical Law Enforcement. She was even bombarded with questions as she arrived at the Ministry every morning, because they were always there, asking her about the newest victim and his family, and why they had been killed and what was the Ministry doing to stop the murderer and were there any leads thus far? Gigi found herself hating her job, the one steady thing in her life. The ugliness that surrounded her everyday, the crippled humanity of the media and the crime files that littered the office nearly had her in frustrated tears by the end of everyday. She spent long hours at the Ministry in overtime, planning different events and awareness meetings and staff conferences. These meetings actually got in the way of her sleep schedule. And this disorganization saved Gigi's life.

On the last Friday of the first week of October, Gigi awoke later than usual. In her sleep, she had silenced her alarm clock. She woke up forty-five minutes later in a panicked state, and then leapt from her bed, swearing and scrambling to get ready for work.

Harry, however, arrived at the Ministry early that day. He had a press conference at nine, detailing new evidence found in the home of the latest murder victims. Because Harry was going into work early that day, he was forced to walk to the Ministry, rather than using floo powder.

So when Harry began his walk to work that morning, he was more vigilant than usual. He stopped inside a coffee shop to pick up a regular coffee, and was careful to watch the seedy characters that lurked in the corners and even the pedestrians that looked the slightest bit familiar or suspicious. When Harry crossed the street to the Ministry that morning, he could tell something was wrong. The gates that opened to the gardens in front of the Ministry were cracked. Beyond that, the security guard, Eric, was on the ground, a bloody lump on his forehead. Harry quickly set down his coffee and slipped his wand out of his coat pocket. Cautiously, Harry moved through the gates. He stooped down to check Eric's pulse, and when he received confirmation that there was a pulse, he moved through the security checkpoint. When he moved around the corner, to the business entrance, where the St. Mungo's fountain was located, he slackened his posture a bit. There were people already inside the Ministry, walking about and chatting. They were oblivious to the state of the Security Guard outside.

Just as Harry moved out from around the corner to enter the building, there was a flash of light, and an explosion behind him. Harry felt himself fly through the air and collide with the wall of the Ministry. He fell into the gravel, and the rocks cut into his flesh, staining the ground with his blood. There was a great shattering sound as the window above Harry broke into millions of pieces, and Harry could hear screaming and shrieking inside the Ministry as people began to run in fear.

"Harry Potter," a voice boomed out. Harry struggled to his feet and whipped around, looking for the source of the voice and immediately spotted it in a cloaked figure that stood twenty yards away. "I hear you've been looking for me, because all the killings I've committed." Below the half-skull mask, the murder's mouth turned into an evil, twisted leer.

"Expelliarmus," Harry shouted, pointing his wand at the figure, but they disappeared with a whirl of their cloak. At once, the shrouded figure appeared closer to Harry.

"The boy who lived," the figure scoffed, and Harry angrily fired off another spell at them.

"You bastard," Harry shouted in a condescending tone as the figure appeared, once again, closer to Harry. "He's dead and gone. Voldemort. You know that, right? You will never be able to please him or be as powerful a wizard as he was."

"You fool!" The figure shouted, suddenly. Harry aimed another spell at them, and the figure quickly deflected it. "You think I aim to take glory away from the Dark Lord?" The figure yanked up their left sleeve, and Harry could spot a thin red scar where the Dark Mark had most likely been before Voldemort's death. "I will not live with this scar. I will avenge the Dark Lord before I restore him to power. I…"

This time, Harry got them.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled. The silver light struck forward and hit the figure on the shoulder. At once, their robe was ripped apart there, as well as the skin, so that blood began to flow from their shoulder. The figure gasped and slapped their other hand over the wound.

"I don't think you understand how serious I am," the figure snarled as Harry began to move forward. They raised their wand and directed it at the entrance to the Ministry. Harry glanced up just in time. Gigi was running through the gates, a tow of reporters in her wake.

"No," Harry shouted, raising his wand again. He cast a protection spell in front of Gigi, so that the figure could not bring her any harm. However, his act of protection had worked for his enemy. In his distraction, the figure had apparated. Gigi stood, quivering in her tracks. Shakily, she pulled out her wand from her purse and undid the protection spell as reporters began to snap pictures of the gardens and the spot where the figure had disappeared.

"Not now," Gigi began to say weakly, and then, gaining back her senses, turned around and began to point the reporters out of the courtyard. "You'll have to wait outside. Wait until we schedule a press conference, please. Just wait." Gigi managed to shove the reporters outside of the gate as a few wizards rushed forward to take care of Eric, who was feebly stirring.

"Gigi," Harry said, rushing to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" Gigi asked blankly. "I'm fine. Are you okay? You were out here, battling him or her or whoever. _Dueling _them."

"It was one sided," Harry replied bitterly. "I should've caught them." Harry set his jaw and his green eyes flashed in anger and frustration.

"Come on," Gigi said quietly. "You did what you had to. You saved my life."

"They was right there," Harry said, staring at the spot where the murderer had stood last. He got a slightly maniacal look on his face. Gigi tugged lightly on Harry's arm and began to lead him into the Ministry, dragging him onto the lift.

"You're bleeding," Gigi noticed as the lift began to move upwards. Harry put his hand to his hairline and realized he was, in fact, bleeding. Gigi removed a handkerchief from her purse and held it to Harry's hairline to staunch the bleeding. She was so close that Harry could smell her shampoo, see the light dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose.

"Thanks," he managed to choke out as Gigi pressed on the wound. "But I'm okay. You're ruining your handkerchief."

"I never liked this one anyway," Gigi said lightly, but took the handkerchief away from his forehead. She twisted it into a ball and Harry took it from her hands.

"I'll take care of it," Harry said. Gigi cleared her throat and looked up at the blinking numbers. They were one floor away from their destination.

"Thank you," Gigi suddenly said as the lift beeped. "I appreciate what you did out there." And ever so quickly, she leaned in and kissed Harry on the cheek. The lift slid into place and Gigi quickly pulled away from Harry. Harry could see a blush rising into her cheeks. Without another word, Gigi walked through the open lift doors, but turned back slightly to give Harry a half-smile.

Harry suddenly felt like maybe the morning hadn't been a complete failure.


	6. Chapter 6

After the confrontation at the Ministry, the murders stopped.

However, the Auror department did not. While Magical Law Enforcement was able to relax, given the sudden downturn of crime. However, the Auror department was in overdrive, attempting to track down the murderer.

It was in the thick of it all that Hermione appeared in Harry's office. He had just returned to the floor after a meeting with Kinglsey and walked into the Auror's department when Effy approached him.

"Sorry to accost you here, Harry," she began apologetically. Effy began to hand him small, colored pieces of paper on which she had taken messages. She handed him a purple note: "The blood sample is back, they didn't find anything significant." Effy pauses and looks back to Gigi's office. Harry follows her glance.

Gigi's sitting at her desk, writing out a long letter. She stops only to dip her quill in ink or to rub her eyes, exhausted from her work.

"Gigi wants to talk about a press opportunity that Witch Weekly brought up the other day, when you have a chance."

Gigi looks up at that precise moment and locks eyes with Harry. Gigi raises a hand, waves her fingers and gives him the smallest of smiles. Harry nods back, and begins to step towards her office when Effy suddenly grabs his arm, restraining him.

"Sorry, Harry," she says, releasing him. "But there's someone here to see you." She nods to Harry's office. Harry squints towards the window in his office, and sitting in one of the desk chairs is a certain bushy-haired someone.

"Ah, thank you," Harry says, touching her arm lightly. He turns away from Gigi's office and instead, heads to his own.

From Gigi's desk, she can see right into Harry's office. Though she should be working, she can't help but watch as Harry enters the office. Some ten minutes before, the same girl she had seen him with earlier, the brown-haired girl from the restaurant, had entered his office. She had sat down in one of the chairs by his desk and crossed her legs, her foot impatiently bouncing up and down. Gigi shook her head, trying to convince herself not to watch, and turned back to the letter she was writing.

She was writing to her dad, who had called her back a few days ago. He had jovially told her that he was going on a cruise to the Bahamas this week with his girlfriend (Alexis? Allie? Gigi couldn't recall her name. Either way, it didn't matter). She sighed and stared at the letters at the top of the page.

_Dear Dad, _it read in her flowing, perfect script. Gigi sighed, put her quill back in the inkpot, and stole a look at Harry's office.

Harry was sitting at his desk, talking to the woman across from him. At one point, he beamed. Gigi watched as he suddenly stood up from his chair and embraced the woman. Gigi looked down at her letter. She suddenly felt her stomach churn, as if she was about to be sick.

However, whatever Gigi assumed to be happening in Harry's office was just a figment of her imagination.

"Hermione," Harry said, entering his office. Hermione looked up at him, smiling widely. A book was in her lap.

"You bought it?" She asked. She held up the book so that the golden letters glinted in the fluorescent lights. _Hogwarts: A History._

"Thought it was about time," Harry said lightly, sitting down at his desk chair. He smiled as he watched Hermione turn the book over, so she could scan the back cover. "What are you doing here?"

"I had some news," Hermione said distantly. She placed the book down on Harry's desk and sat back in her chair. "I have some news, I should say."

"What is it?" Harry asked, slightly worried by her solemn attitude. "Is everyone alright? Ron and all that?"

"Ron's fine," Hermione soothed him. She placed a hand on her stomach, and Harry could see a slight bulge under her sweater. "I went to the Doctor yesterday."

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

Hermione smiled at him. "Ron and I are having a girl."

"That's great, Hermione," Harry replied, beaming back at her.

"We want you to be the godfather, of course," Hermione told him, her tone suddenly bossy. "And I know you're already a godfather to Teddy, but you can handle a lot on your plate."

Harry smiled at Hermione, stood from his chair and leaned down to hug her.

"Of course I will." He pulled away, and as he did so, he looked towards Gigi's office. Visible through the window was Gigi. She was staring at him. When he caught sight of her, she quickly turned her head, blushing slightly.

"Still haven't asked her out then?" Hermione said, standing. She shouldered her purse.

"No," Harry replied quietly. He turned to look at his old friend and patted her shoulder. "That doesn't matter now. Congratulations, Hermione. Really. Tell Ron that I want you two to come over for dinner Saturday night."

"He would love that," Hermione said enthusiastically. "He's really busy with George at the moment, just waiting for the day when he can take his Auror exams." She looks down at her stomach and smiles. "Half of me hopes that she gets the twin's humor." She looks back at Harry. "I have to get going. I still have work to do before I can take maternity leave." She leans in to hug him. "Oh, and you are going to come to our place Saturday. The last time you attempted to make us dinner Ron had a stomachache for a day."

"Kreacher's always at my beck and call," Harry joked, but Hermione rolled her eyes. He opened the door for her, and she began to leave, still smiling. Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione glowed with happiness. She was the happiest he had ever seen her. Harry closed the door to his office and glanced at his bookshelf. On the top shelf were pictures he had saved over the years. One of his parents on their wedding day, one of the original Order of The Phoenix, A picture of his father, Sirius and Remus, and a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The last picture, taken on the steps of Hogwarts, shows them as children, their faces still alight with a childish glow and wonder that Harry's face had since lost. He smiled as Ron punched Harry in the shoulder and Hermione scolded him.

The last picture on the shelf was taken on Ron and Hermione's wedding day. The three of them sat at the Wedding table, Harry giving an invisible speech as Hermione and Ron sat next to each other, their hands entwined. Both Ron and Hermione glowed.

Harry couldn't help but wonder when he would find happiness like that.

A few minutes later, Gigi's door was opened in a rather sudden way, so that the doorknob hit the wall violently. Gigi looked up from her letter, alarmed, to see Harry standing in the doorway.

"Um," he began, closing the door gently. He ran a hand over his messy hair. He seemed nervous. "Effy said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Witch Weekly wants an interview this week," Gigi said in a clipped tone. Her stomach began to do acrobatics as he sat across from her, his green eyes focusing in on hers. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing it? You've already had so many press conferences, but I have to wonder if it wouldn't be better to do a magazine interview. It might reach a wider audience."

"I guess that would be okay," Harry said. "Give me more of a chance to answer some more questions."

Gig nodded. Harry still sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk, and she raised an eyebrow at him, waiting.

"Okay," Gigi said, her voice clearly edging for him to leave.

"Oh, right," Harry said standing. He tucked his hands in his robe pockets and turned to leave. But before he could open the door, Gigi spoke out.

"She's very beautiful." Harry paused and turned to look back at her, his expression confused.

"Who?"

"That woman in your office. Your girlfriend," Gigi said quietly. Unless it was Harry's imagination, Gigi sounded the slightest bit jealous. "The one with all the…"

"Hair?" Harry supplied. He let out a short bark of laughter that startled Gigi. "That's not my girlfriend."

"Oh?"

"That's Hermione Granger," Harry told Gigi. He smiled at her. "She's my best friend."

Gigi's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "That was Hermione Granger?"

"Yes."

"But…" Gigi looked from Harry to the exit of the Auror office, and then back to Harry. "She's amazing. She's brilliant. I've wanted to meet her for so long to discuss her views on the House Elf bill that passed a few years ago."

"I'm sure she would enjoy that," Harry said. "I'll introduce you some time."

"Okay," Gigi agreed with a smile. And as Harry closed the door, she realized that she was smiling, first and foremost, because he wasn't dating Hermione Granger.

The next week was the first week of November. It seemed like ages to Gigi, and she couldn't believe that she had been working at the Auror office since September. She also couldn't believe that she enjoyed working for the Auror office.

On the last Friday of that first week, Gigi sat at her desk as the office emptied out for the day. It had been a long week, and she was anxious to get home, but before she did that, there was some work she had to do first. An owl had swooped into her office five minutes to six, a copy of Witch Weekly in its beak. It had dropped it on her desk and zoomed out, flying out over Effy's coiffed head.

Gigi broke open the seal on the magazine and opened it. In the dead center was a large picture of Harry, who looked slightly uncomfortable, but his green eyes sparkled anyway. The caption of the article read: Britain's Favourite Hero Takes on a New Job that has The World Talking. In parentheses was the quip (And Maybe He'll take on the Ladies soon too?). Gigi smirked and set the magazine aside as someone knocked on her door. Harry was leaning into her office.

"I just got the Witch Weekly article," Gigi said. "Looks alright so far."

"Wasn't too bad," Harry admits, hitting his thumb against the doorjamb. "Listen, I'm heading out. Can you lock up?"

But Gigi didn't appear to be listening. She was staring at the grounds, her face suddenly crestfallen.

"Hey," Harry said, genuinely concerned. He took a few steps and placed a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"It was my birthday today," Gigi said tonelessly. "It was on the staff board but no one said anything."

Harry immediately felt guilty. "I didn't see the staff board. If I had known…"

But Gigi waves away his excuses with her hand. "My dad didn't write. My mum called for a few minutes, but I talked to Gabe the most." Gigi attempts smiles a bit and stands up, knocking Harry's hand off her shoulder.

"Come on," Harry said, suddenly grabbing her purse.

"You carry purses now?" Gigi asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Only yours," Harry joked. "I'm taking you out for a drink. Come on. It'll be fun."

Gigi narrowed her eyes, trying to tell if Harry was joking. When she realized he wasn't, she relented a bit.

"Really?" She asked.

"Why would I joke about this?" Harry replied, laughing. "You're how old? Twenty-one? Then it's twenty-one shots for you."

Gigi laughed and plucked up her overcoat, tucking it over one arm. Harry allowed her to go through the door before him, and he couldn't help but feel very pleased with himself.


	7. Chapter 7

"Favorite Book?" Gigi and Harry sat at a table in Tovington's Grille, their heads bent close to each other so they could hear over the music that was playing loudly. The pub was packed with young Ministry employees anxious to unwind after work, but Gigi and Harry sat alone. Gigi tapped her fingers on the tabletop and then sipped a bit of her fire whiskey.

"Wuthering Heights," Gigi replied promptly. "I took a Muggle Studies class in school, and we had to read a classic…it's been my favorite book ever since."

Harry nodded. "I never pegged you for the romantic type."

"I'm not," Gigi said. "It's anti-romantic, really. It's one of the greatest stories about betrayal." She took another sip of fire whiskey. "Okay. Now you. Favorite Book?"

"My old potions textbook," Harry said carefully. He gripped his pint of beer in one hand. "Seriously," he said as Gigi smiled incredulously. "I don't know why."

"Next question," Gigi requested, signaling for another drink.

Harry considered before asking: "Why don't you tell me a secret? Something you haven't told anyone?"

"A secret? How old are we, five?" Gigi smirked. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Unless you're too scared…"

"No," Gigi said hastily as the waitress put another glass in front of her. She shook back her hair and stared thoughtfully at a spot above Harry's head. "When I'm drunk, my voice gets exponentially better. Normally, I can't sing at all. But something happens when I just have even a little bit of beer or wine, and I can sing."

"Hmm," Harry said, fighting the urge to smile. Gigi rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm.

"It's mortifying," she said, putting her face in her hands. "You have to tell me a secret now. I don't care what it is. Although…" Gigi bit her lip. "I would prefer if it was something embarrassing."

Harry didn't answer right away. There were many things he could say right now, and he did, in fact, feel comfortable spilling all of them. But at the same time…there was one thing that nagged him, stuck in the back of his mind. In a last moment decision, he blurted it out, forgetting what Gigi's friend had told him a few months earlier…

"When you first came to work at the Auror's office…I had a crush on you," Harry admitted. He avoided Gigi's eyes and took a sip of his beer. When he placed it down on the polished wood tabletop, Gigi, to his relief, let out a small laugh.

"What stopped you?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Gigi said slowly, running her finger around the rim of her glass. "You said you _had_ a crush on me. Past tense."

Harry swallowed. Gigi's eyes sparkled in the soft light that the restaurant chandeliers cast, and her hair began to curl just the slightest bit, framing her face in a less severe way than it usually did. She looked prettier than Harry had ever seen her. He wanted to lean in and tell her that he still liked her, and he wasn't going anywhere until she admitted she liked him, too. And then he wanted to kiss her. But before Harry could open his mouth, someone came up to the table.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry blinked and looked up to see a middle-aged woman with her son. Her son was maybe ten, and was holding a piece of paper and blinking rapidly at Harry, his mouth slightly open. The woman smiled apologetically. "I'm very sorry to interrupt, but my son saw you from outside and insisted we come say hello."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said quietly, and smiled at the boy. The boy smiled back and held out the piece of paper. Although Harry felt his stomach squirm at the awkward gesture, he took the paper and signed his name with a pen Gigi supplied.

"Thank you very much," the woman told him. She leaned down to her son. "Say thank you, Marcus."

"Thank you," the boy said, still staring at Harry with a reverent gaze.

Harry smiled at the pair and then turned back to Gigi, who was watching the boy and his mother leave.

"Do you ever get sick of it?" Gigi asked. "People gawking at you?"

"All the time," Harry answered truthfully. "It's never been a dream of mine, being famous for something you never wanted to be famous for. It's kind of cruel, being trapped in this spiral that you can never get out of."

Gigi nodded and took another sip of her drink.

At the back of the restaurant, a group of people, who looked like they were maybe nineteen or so, began to sing loudly, breaking into raucous laughter. They gathered around the old-fashioned microphone system and tried their best not to laugh as they sang out the lyrics. Gigi sighed when she heard the lyrics.

"That's my favorite song," she said wistfully.

"Sing it," Harry said. Gigi turned to him, an eyebrow raised. "Go on, you said you sing better when you have some alcohol in you."

"No!" Gigi protested with a peal of laughter. "Not in public."

"Are you scared?" Harry asked. "You sound scared."

"Are you challenging me Mr. Potter?" Gigi asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the tabletop.

"Not at all," Harry said in a mocking tone. "You just sound scared to me."

"Fine," Gigi retorted. She straightened her hair and let out a small bubble of laughter. She stood up and walked towards the group. They whooped when she stepped on the stage with them, and Harry chuckled as Gigi snatched up a microphone from one of them.

_Loving you isn't the right thing to do_

_How can I change things that I feel?_

_If I could, maybe I'd give you my world_

_How can I, when you won't take it from me?_

_You can go your own way,_

_Go your own way._

Gigi swayed slightly as she sang along to the music. She kept her eyes closed, so that she wouldn't see the people in the restaurant staring at her, and she could feel herself blushing. Why had she agreed to this? How mortifying. And then she remembered why. The way that Harry's eyes glittered as he teased her. Well. She was going to take this challenge. Gigi opened her eyes and squinted into the back of the restaurant. Harry was just visible in the booth, laughing along with the rest of the restaurant. He gave Gigi a thumbs up, and Gigi tossed her head and sang louder, her voice reverberating off the walls.

_Tell me why everything turned around?_

_Packing up, Shacking up is all you wanna do_

_If I could baby I'd give you my world_

_Open up, everything's waiting for you_

_You can go your own way,_

_Go your own way,_

_You can call it another lonely day_

_You can go your own way, go your own way._

Gigi sang the chorus once more, and then ended on the perfect note. The restaurant whooped and howled and Gigi bowed jokingly. She jumped off the small stage and made her way back to Harry.

"How was that?" She said, leaning towards him, smiling triumphantly. "My voice isn't bad, is it?"

Harry looked her straight in the eyes and Gigi felt her heart suddenly pick up the pace, pounding faster and harder than it usually did. Harry could see every fleck of gold in Gigi's irises and she smelled of lilacs. Harry's eyes entranced Gigi, and she could see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards slightly.

"I want to kiss you," Harry blurted out, and Gigi breathed out slightly, her breath washing over Harry's lips.

At that point, Gigi thought about her job at the Ministry. She couldn't date her boss. She couldn't. And yet, she couldn't deny her feelings for Harry either. Here he was, telling her how he felt, and who was she to say she didn't feel the same when she did? Gigi weighed the options before she took a breath and said:

"So why don't you?"

And he did. Harry leaned in and kissed Gigi. When Gigi closed her eyes, she felt like a giddy teenage girl. She heard bells ring and fireworks flashed before her eyes. Harry felt the pit of his stomach explode with happiness as he kissed her. It was better than he had imagined, and he gently raised a hand to Gigi's jaw, cupping it, holding her lips against his.

When they broke apart, they looked into each other's eyes for a moment and didn't say a word.

"That's the first time I haven't heard you comment on something," Harry told Gigi quietly. Gigi placed her hand on his chest and smiled.

"I have nothing to say," she replied. "I've been shocked speechless."

Harry dug a few galleons from his pocket and slammed them down on the table.

"Come on," he said, standing up. Harry smiled at Gigi. "I'll walk you home."

Gigi and Harry exited the restaurant. Outside, night had fallen, and the street lamps glowed in the darkness, casting a soft glow on the cobblestone street. As soon as Gigi's stiletto touched the cobblestone, a soft rain began to fall on them.

"Oh no," Gigi moaned, looking up at the sky as the rain began to fall harder.

"Hey," Harry suddenly said, grabbing her elbow. Gigi looked at him and felt a smile spread over her face. "Happy Birthday."

Gigi wrapped an arm around Harry's neck. And this time, she kissed him. They stood in the middle of the street, Gigi's arms around Harry's neck, his around her waist, as the rain began to pound down on them.

For the first time in her life, Gigi didn't care that she was out of control. She had no control over her feelings, the weather, or what was happening. And Gigi had never been happier.


	8. Chapter 8

Gigi couldn't explain what it was about running that thrilled her. Maybe it was the rhythm of her feet hitting the pavement. Perhaps the snap of her ponytail as it bounced behind her. It could have been the constant pounding of blood coursing through her veins. Or it could be the sore stretch in her legs that told Gigi that she was reaching her limit.

But Gigi thought it was observing her surroundings that pleased her the most.

She would try to keep her eyes on the path in front of her, the winding walkway through St. James Gardens, but it proved difficult when there was so much to look at. There was the water, the flower garden, and the other people walking and talking and lounging around. Gigi felt surrounded whenever she went through the park, and for some reason, being surrounded by people comforted her. It made her feel safe, like she was in a safety net.

This was no different the Saturday following Gigi's twenty-first birthday. She got up at ten, rather late for her, but due in part to her consumption of fire whiskey the evening prior. She had laced up her shoes, slipped on some athletic gear, tied up her hair, and left the house. By eleven, she was making her way back up her street when she noticed someone at the door of her house.

"Excuse me," Gigi said, slowly beginning to ascend the stairs to her home. "Can I help you?"

The man turned around, and Gigi could immediately tell he was a muggle deliveryman. In one hand, he held a large, flat box, and in the other hand, a clipboard.

"You Gigi Meyers?" He asked in a gruff accent. "I need a signature on this."

Gigi nodded, and took the pen he offered. She signed the paper he offered her, and then accepted the box. She cautiously unlocked the door, stepped inside, and placed the box down on the front table, where an empty, hand-blown glass vase sat. Gigi opened the lid of the box and saw a large, beautiful bouquet. Gigi breathed in deeply, admiring the aroma. She delicately fingered the petals of the flowers, the tulips, lilies, roses, baby's breath, the green button poms and other greens. Gigi scooped up the flowers and placed them in the vase. As she did so, a small card fell from the steps. She scooped to pick it up, but she already had a feeling she knew who the flowers were from.

Sure enough, her instincts, as usual, were correct.

_Gigi,_

_I realized that I never got you anything for your birthday…though you certainly gave me a great night._

_Xx, Harry_

Gigi bit her lip in an attempt to stop a stupid, silly grin from spreading across her face. She held Harry's note to her chest and leaned against the door, staring at the flowers he sent her.

Later that afternoon, Harry was sitting at home alone. He had just finished listening to a political program on the wireless and was in the middle of making something to eat when the doorbell rang. Perplexed as to who it could be, Harry jogged down the stairs and curiously pulled open the door.

Standing on his front step, looking pretty in a flowered sundress was Gigi. Her hair was curled the slightest bit, and her eyes looked bigger than usual.

"Gigi," Harry said, surprised to see her.

"I must seem creepy," Gigi responded. "Just showing up at your house like this."

"A bit," Harry teased. "How did you get my address?"

"I have all employee addresses in my planner," Gigi reminded him. She smoothed her skirt. "I just wanted to say thank you for the flowers." Her lips curled upwards in a smile.

"You came all the way here to say thank you for a bouquet?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It was a nice bouquet," Gigi said, shrugging her shoulders. Harry and Gigi smiled at each other and then hastily looked away, each feeling slightly awkward.

"Do you want to take a walk?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Gigi said eagerly, blushing deeply. Harry pocketed his wand, closed his front door and locked it. Gigi and Harry began to make their way slowly down Harry's street, soaking up the warm sun, quite unusual for November.

"What do you on weekends?" Gigi asked as they turned the corner.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked.

"I don't know…what do you do?"

"I go into pubs and charm poor, unsuspecting women," Harry said sarcastically. "No, I just…I read or do work or go to friend's. My best friends are married, so I spend a lot of time at their place." He glanced at Gigi's profile. "What do you do?"

"Work," Gigi said. "Or what you do. The same thing, really."

"We sound boring," Harry said.

"Speak for yourself," Gigi said with a grin. "Oh, wait, who am I talking to? Harry, you're probably off saving the world."

"No, that's weekdays." Gigi let out a snort of laughter. Harry, without thinking, reached out and touched her hand. Gigi relented, letting her hand fall loosely by her side. Harry reached out and grabbed it, interlacing his fingers with hers. Gigi tucked her hair back and fell into step with him.

"What are you doing right now?" Gigi asked.

"Walking with you."

"No, I mean, are you busy tonight?"

Harry paused. "Are you asking me on a date?"

Gigi became flustered and blushed a deep crimson. "No! I mean, I was just thinking you might want to do something."

"Like what?" Harry paused, and Gigi halted as well, so she was standing in front of him.

"I have a few ideas," Gigi said confidently. She tilted her head slightly to the right, and lowered her lashes a bit. Harry, on impulse, leaned down and kissed her.

Kissing Gigi was better than anything Harry could've imagined. He had kissed girls before of course, but this was different. When his lips touched Gigi, he felt stronger, his blood suddenly became a rush, his pulse quickened, and she melted into him, as if her shape was a perfect fit for his.

Gigi couldn't help but want to kiss Harry. His eyes always entranced her, and seemed to bring out her animal instincts, her raw desire. As Harry's hands found their way to her waist and her neck, Gigi felt herself weaken a bit. His touch was stronger than any touch she had experienced. Gigi pressed herself against Harry's body, anxious to feel him against her.

When they broke apart, they were silent again. Gigi didn't have any words, and Harry simply wished to watch her than say anything, rather than break the peace. Harry tucked back a piece of Gigi's hair and she bit her lip and looked up at him through thick black lashes.

"You're a good snog," she finally said, laughing a bit as she said it, as if she was embarrassed by her own boldness.

"Likewise," Harry said, brushing his finger against her lower lip.

"Let's get out of here," Gigi said, taking his hand. She glanced around, and when she was sure they were alone, Gigi apparated. Harry felt himself being pulled through the darkness, and then, suddenly, there was light. Harry found himself on a bank in a familiar, green place.

"What are we doing in Regent's Park?" He asked. Gigi ignored his question and glanced around the park. The muggles nearby were leaving, probably to get supper. Gigi took her wand out from her purse and waved it. At once, a boat appeared in the water.

"You took me out last night," Gigi said, pulling the boat closer to the shore. "Now I get to take you out."

"Is this how you spend your weekends?" Harry asked. "Boating?"

"I was co-captain of the sailing club when I was younger," Gigi said, and then rolled her eyes. "Summer activity. My mum's insistence, of course. Come on, get in."

Harry stepped into the small boat, which rocked dangerously. Gigi stepped in after, and pushed off from the shore. The boat began to make its way down the small park river. Gigi leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the trees overhead.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft pink glow over the park. The shrieks of muggle children began to fade as their parents collected them, and the young people began to stumble off, more eager to spend their time in pubs.

"I can't swim," Harry suddenly told Gigi, looking down at the water. He put his hand out over the side of the boat, letting his fingers drag through the water, creating a small stream of ripples. "My fourth year, I had to spend an hour under water, and I panicked because I couldn't swim. But I took gillyweed, so the flippers took care of thing. But I've always wanted to swim."

"Swimming's terrifying," Gigi pointed out. "Immersing your body in the unknown." She shivered.

"Did you just admit to being scared of something?" Harry asked, somewhat shocked. Gigi shook her head.

"I'm scared of a lot of things," she said quietly, growing serious. "Water. Danger. Chaos." She cleared her throat. "Love."

"What if we swim together?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter. "So that way we'll both be in the unknown?"

Gigi couldn't help but wonder if those words had a double meaning, but couldn't bring herself to ask.

"What, right now?" She laughed.

"Why not?" Harry asked, gripping the sides of the boat. He slowly leaned back and forth, tipping the boat ever so slightly.

"Oh, don't!" Gigi cried, sitting up. "Don't you dare, Harry Potter."

Harry grinned at her. "I wouldn't dare, Gigi Meyers." Harry slowly stood up and then leaned down on his knees. He scooted up closer to Gigi, so that he was nearly straddling her legs.

Gigi was frozen, caught, as always, by those eyes.

Harry leaned down and lightly pressed his lips against hers. Gigi closed her eyes and lifted her arms, draping them around Harry's shoulders. She carefully tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. There was a sudden fluttering sound, and Gigi and Harry pulled apart. The boat had quietly drifted into an area that was nearly completely dense with foliage. In the darkness, small lights had suddenly emerged.

Gigi gasped.

"Oh look," she said, grabbing Harry's lapel. "I've never seen them so close." Fairies had emerged from their hiding places, and were dancing from leaf to leaf, their transparent wings sparkling lightly in the dark. "It's magical," Gigi breathed. She lay down on her back; her hands folded on her stomach, and looked up to the sky, watching the fairies dart around her head. Harry did the same, careful to lie next to her, their shoulders matched up. Gigi looked at Harry and smiled at him.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It is."


	9. Chapter 9

Gigi wasn't sure what to expect Monday morning. As she got ready for work, she pondered the situation she had gotten herself into. As she shaved her legs, running the tip of her wand up and down the length of her legs, she remembered Saturday night.

She and Harry had docked the boat. He had placed a hand on the small of her back as they exited the boat, which sent her stomach fluttering. They had walked back out into the London streets, and ate at a small café near the gardens. Harry had offered to walk her home after they ate, and when she shivered from the night air, he had offered her his jacket. When they reached her house, Harry lightly kissed her goodbye. Gigi had smiled, turned around and went inside. She watched from her living room window as Harry apparated into the night.

But today was different. Today, Harry and Gigi would be in the workplace. Gigi wondered how she should act, what she should say, what she should do? Pretend nothing was different? Should she even talk to Harry? Whenever Gigi was in Harry's presence, she found herself becoming looser, unwound, and even unstable, in Gigi's mind.

As Harry got ready that morning, the same topic was on his mind. Saturday had gone well enough, in Harry's opinion. When he kissed Gigi goodnight, Gigi had smiled as their lips touched. When he drew away, her eyes fluttered open and she had bit her lip happily. Harry loved to see her reaction, see her happy. And so, just as Gigi decided not to make a deal out of anything, Harry decided to chase her emotions.

When Harry got to the Ministry that morning, Gigi was already in her office. He walked up to Effy's desk, so he could receive his messages. He glanced through the glass windows of Gigi's office to see her working hard. She happened to look up at the same time he looked in her direction. Harry smiled, and Gigi turned a deep red color, then looked back to her work.

Harry furrowed his brow, perplexed. He walked into his office, shut the door, and sat down at his desk. For a few moments, he attempted to catch Gigi's glanced, but she was determined to work on something without ever glancing up from the paper.

Harry felt a small seed of nerves take root in his stomach. Why was Gigi ignoring him? She hadn't even offered him a fraction, even a shadow of a smile. This made Harry's stomach flip uncomfortably. What had he done?

At lunch, Gigi watched as people began to slowly trickle out of their workspaces. Every Monday, there was a deal at one of the Wizarding Cafés near the Ministry, where one could buy a full meal for just four sickles, a huge bargain. When everyone had gone, Gigi picked up Harry's planner, which she had just filled out, and opened the door to her office. She smiled at some of the last co-workers to leave, and then crossed the hallway. She rapped her knuckles lightly on Harry's door.

Harry was sitting at his desk, reading over reports that had come in on Dark Wizarding sightings. In most cases, it was elderly witches and wizards who had seen a dog in a bush and panicked, thinking it was a hunched over Death Eater. Harry shook his head and placed another report aside when someone knocked on his door. Harry rolled up his sleeves, stood from his chair, and opened the door. Gigi was standing outside, holding out his planner. She looked beautiful, as always. Her hair was up today, so that her bangs looked slightly longer on the sides, framing her pale face. Gigi's small waist was accentuated in a tight blazer, and her skirt just brushed the top of her knees, so that her shapely calves were visible. Harry, however, focused in on her eyes. When she saw him, her eyes widened, and then softened. The pupils grew enormously, like someone had blown up a balloon.

"Hi," Gigi said somewhat quietly. She held out the planner, moving it closer to Harry's chest. "I just finished putting in your appointments for the week."

"Why don't you come in?" Harry asked. Gigi hesitated, looking back to her office. The rest of the office was empty.

"I…I can't," Gigi replied. "I have some stuff to work on."

"Like what?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Come on, come in."

Gigi still stood outside Harry's office, still clutching the planner.

"Come in to my office," Harry said in a pointed tone, and Gigi snapped her head up. She respected authority, Harry knew. So when he used an authoritarian voice, Gigi moved into action.

"What is it?" Gigi asked, as Harry closed the door behind them. She carefully placed the planner down on his desk and anxiously ran a hand through her bangs, mussing them up the slightest bit. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and Gigi turned around to see Harry standing behind her, his face just inches from hers. Instead of answering, Harry grabbed Gigi's shoulders and pulled her mouth to his.

At once, Gigi's knees crumpled out from under her, and to steady herself, she grabbed onto his elbows. She couldn't believe what was happening. Here she was, at work, kissing her boss. It was worse than she had imagined, not the kiss, mind you, but Gigi's nonchalance concerning the situation. She didn't even mind kissing Harry in the workplace, an offense, she would have punished herself for just two months ago.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, breaking away from him. Harry moved his hand up into her hair, rubbing the strands in between his fingertips.

"Kissing you," he retorted, pressing his lips to hers, and then drawing back. "That is, unless you don't want me to."

Gigi considered his words. She should say no. It would be rational to, really. But then again, Gigi did want him to kiss her. And Gigi wasn't about to lie. _That was worse than kissing in the workplace_, Gigi thought with a blush.

"I want you to," she said. Gigi wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and lifted her chin towards his. Harry eagerly kissed her again, his breath washing over her mouth. Gigi closed her eyes and opened her mouth the slightest bit, anxiously pressing her tongue against Harry's. "Wait," she suddenly pulled away from Harry, letting her fingers fly to her mouth. She stood up straight and straightened Harry's collar. "What are we doing?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious," Harry replied with a grin.

"No, I mean…" Gigi sighed. "What are _we_ doing? What if people see us together? What should we say?"

"Listen to yourself," Harry said, with a scoffing laugh. "_See us together? _You make it sound like we're undercover." When Gigi didn't reply, Harry's slight smirk faded. He walked brusquely around his desk and took a seat, smoothing his tie. "You want to keep this a secret."

"Yes," Gigi said eagerly. "Whatever this is. Because I mean, we work together. This could make for an awkward situation if people knew. I don't want to damage my reputation."

"Nor mine," Harry said quietly. Both of them swallowed and looked in opposite directions. "I am your boss."

Gigi felt her face turn red, and she felt as if she had been slapped.

"That's all you're going to say?" She asked, somewhat sadly.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry replied. "Fine, I'll tell you what I had planned to say. I was going to say that I don't care if people know we're dating, or hooking up. Because I like you Gigi. And while we've both worked hard to get to where we are today, I would risk it just to spend time with you. I like you that much."

Gigi mentally kicked herself. Harry sat before her, earnest, handsome, and putting himself out there, while she, Gigi, drew away into herself.

"I can't," Gigi said. "You don't understand what I've sacrificed to be here. I can't lose it. I would lose everything."

"Not me," Harry said firmly, standing up from his chair. He placed both his palms and leaned on them, so he was leaning towards Gigi. "I'd be next to you, lost too."

"You don't get it!" Gigi suddenly exploded. "You know why everyone thinks I'm a cold-hearted bitch?"

"They don't…" Harry began.

"Oh yes they do," Gigi cut in, nodding. "You think I don't hear them? Listen to me. I moved here fresh out of school. And when I did that, I was engaged to be married. I was just nineteen, it was so hard to cope with everything…but I successfully got a job here, I began to work my way up through the ranks. I moved into a house and became consumed by my job." Gigi drew a breath. "One night, my fiancée, Ryan, his name is Ryan, came to see me. He showed up on my doorstep one night. He asked me to leave everything behind, to run off and get married that night."

Harry took a sharp breath that nearly caused him to choke.

"I refused. I told him not to be mad, that I had work in the morning. So Ryan said that I had to choose. If I chose my job, I would never see him again." Gigi paused and gave Harry a small smile. "So I chose my job. And I regretted it, I regretted it a lot of the time, up until I met you."

Harry remained quiet. He folded his hands together and looked at Gigi expectantly. Gigi struggled to find words to express herself. She twisted her hands together.

"I like you Harry. Obviously." Gigi blushed. "But you need to understand that my job is the only constant thing in my life, it's what keeps me grounded. It gives me a sense of control that I need." Gigi picked a piece of lint off her sleeve and sighed. "I lost everything because of my job, except just that, my job. I cling to it because it's what I'll always have."

"You lost everything?" Harry asks quietly. At once, he feels his pulse rise, and his face heat up. He couldn't explain why, but he suddenly felt angrier than usual. "You lost everything? I lost my parents, my godfather, my other relatives, and my great friends. Why don't you go cope with your loss then? Because your one loss seems to be much greater than mine."

At once, Gigi stepped back from Harry's desk, as if he had slapped her. Harry knew he had gone too far, and put out a hand, as if to reconcile. He began to speak, apologize, but Gigi talked over him.

"Fuck you," she said angrily. "I never suggested I lost more than you. I know better than to do that Harry. You're being immature and selfish when I was trying to express my feelings, something I don't do often." She turned around and left his office in a huff, slamming the door so often that she cracked the glass in the window. Harry immediately put his head in his hands, feeling the weight of his words settle on his shoulders. Gigi left the office soon after, not returning after the lunch break.

That night, Gigi had just finished talking to Gabriel on the phone when the doorbell rang.

"'Bye Gabe. Love you." Gigi hung up the phone and cautiously approached the door. She checked her watch. It was nearly ten, who would come calling at this time of night? Gigi swung the door open to see Harry standing on the front step.

His hands were in his pockets, in a sad, apologetic manner. He was slumped over slightly and his hair was messier than usual. His eyes expressed his guilt.

"What?" Gigi asked, crossing her arms. She narrowed her eyes at Harry, though she could feel her knees quivering at the sight of him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "Really, I am. I don't know why I exploded like that. Gigi, I would never say something to intentionally hurt you. I hope you know that."

"You did hurt me," Gigi told him, still frosty. "You were the rudest I've ever heard. Just because my loss can't measure up to the amount that your losses were, it doesn't mean that it didn't hurt just as much."

"I realized that," Harry replied. "After you left. Too late. I just get so angry over those feelings I have." Harry ran a hand over his hair and straightened his glasses. "They were all lives cut too short, and sometimes…well, I don't know how to describe it. But when you lost that guy-"

"Ryan," Gigi supplied.

"Ryan," Harry said. "When you lost him, you never saw him again. It was like he was dead to you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Gigi said quietly, avoiding Harry's direct gaze.

"Well, you know how I feel then…but it's been badly pent up and layered on for years and years. Please forgive me, Gigi. If you can."

Gigi, possibly the most rational, uptight person her age, lost all her resistance with that one utterance.

"Of course I can," Gigi said. "And I will." She opened the door more widely, and Harry jumped up the last two stairs, folding her in his arms. She raised her hands so she could tangle her fingers in his hair. Harry pulled away only to reel her back in and kiss her.

"Hey, wait," Gigi said as Harry pulled away, stroking her jaw. "Why don't you come inside for a bit?"

Harry ached to, but he forced himself to shake his head.

"I want to. But we have work tomorrow, remember?" He smiled at Gigi and winked. Gigi leaned against her door and smiled at Harry as he began to descend her steps. When he reached the sidewalk, he turned around to face her, a smile still on his face. "You're more gracious than you pretend to be," he said. And then Harry apparated.

Gigi shook her head, still smiling to herself, closed her front door and locked it. She quietly went through her house, putting out the lights and turning off the wireless. She didn't flinch as the autumn wind howled outside, or when the tree branches scraped at the windows. As Gigi got ready for bed, she didn't mind as the rain began to pound against her roof, soaking the sidewalk below. As Gigi began to fall asleep, she didn't notice the dark figure that shimmied up the tree that looked in her window. As she tossed and turned, lost in her dreams, she didn't awake as the figure managed to crawl onto her balcony.

"Gigi Meyers," the figure whispered. "Let's see how much you really mean to Mr. Potter."


	10. Chapter 10

When Gigi thought it about it, she had never experienced feelings like these. When she was younger, of course, she thought she had. Ryan had been perfect in her eyes. But she had soon learned his flaws, and after a while, she had stayed with him for convenience, rather than anything else. But things were different now.

When Gigi saw Harry doing rounds in the office, she wished he would stop by her office first. She longed for the stolen moments when he would kiss her, careful not to press his glasses against her face. She couldn't wait to hear him say her voice in the tone he reserved just for her. Gigi imagined the moments when Harry would hold her, slipping his hands around her back like he always did, hooking his hands together, creating a flesh cradle in which he would house her.

But then again, as much as Gigi enjoyed these feelings, as much as she ravished in them, she was scared of them as well. For different reasons, but mostly of getting hurt like she had before. However, just looking at Harry was enough to squash those feelings.

Harry had never been happier. It was possible that while Hogwarts had been his best years, he had never been on a higher cloud. His relationship with Gigi made him feel giddy _all the time._ Something Harry had never been accustomed to. So, a few weeks after they first kissed, Harry did something special, something major.

Gigi had just returned to the office after lunch. She held a bottle of water in hand and her purse in the other. She marched her way past the guard outside the Ministry, through the golden doors, and into the lift. She waited patiently as it swept her up to the Auror's office. When the doors opened, she jumped. Harry was waiting outside the lift, his hands clasped.

"Hi," Gigi said, her hand flying to her chest. She walked out of the lift, her legs shaking slightly at the sight of him. "God, you scared me."

"Sorry," Harry said apologetically, but he grinned at her. "Come with me for a minute."

"But…" Gigi glanced towards the office, and then back at Harry, who was watching her expectantly. "I can't really say no to you."

Harry smirked widely. "I was kind of counting on that."

Gigi slipped her hand into Harry's, glanced behind them, and then followed him down the Hallway. As they approached the loos, Harry suddenly pulled her to the left, into a closet.

"Is this a broom cupboard?" Gigi asked incredulously, groping around in the darkness.

"I had to get you alone," Harry said. He murmured something, and then the closet lit up. Harry held up his wand to the side of Gigi's face so he could see her features. "I wanted to ask you what you're doing Saturday night."

"Besides spending time with you?" Gigi quipped, sidling closer to Harry. She jumped on her toes so she could kiss him. "Nothing."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. See, I was wondering if maybe…you would want to go to dinner with me?"

"Sure," Gigi replied, giving him a perplexed look. "We could get muggle food. There's this really good place, Zizi's. They make the best four cheese pizza."

"No," Harry said. "No, I mean, I want you to come to dinner with me…" he paused. "At Ron and Hermione's house."

Gigi drew back slightly, her dark eyebrows arched.

"Together? In front of other people?"

"We don't work with them, remember?"

"True," Gigi mused. And then she smiled brightly. "You want me to meet your friends?"

"This is a big test," Harry said in a teasing tone. "Since my parents aren't around, this is as close as you will get to meeting family."

Gigi bit her lip, but the corners of her mouth were still turned up in a smile. "I'm nervous," she confided.

"Don't be," Harry whispered, brushing his lips across her brow. "I have a suspicion that you and Hermione will get on better than you expect."

Gigi snaked an arm around Harry, her hand working under his jacket. She pressed herself against his frame, so his arms encompassed her. Harry raised a hand to stroke her hair. Gigi raised her head slightly, so she could look him in the eyes.

"What do we tell them?" She asked.

Harry paused. "About what?"

"Us," Gigi said, and Harry noticed that she looked worried. Her hands shook the slightest bit. "What we're doing….dating wise."

"You mean, if we're official?"

"Yeah." Harry realized that Gigi wasn't asking because she was nervous about meeting Ron and Hermione, but because she wanted to know, from Harry, about their relationship.

"Tell them the truth," Harry said. "We're dating…exclusively."

"Really?" Gigi brightened like a light bulb.

"Unless you're dating someone else on the side," Harry said hurriedly.

"No," Gigi replied with a slight laugh. "Have you met me? Of course not."

Harry grinned her. "I've met you. That's why I asked. You're beautiful and witty and commanding and quite funny. I was worried I'd have to fight others off for your affections."

"No, you just had to fight me for a while," Gigi joked.

"See?" Harry chuckled. "Ron and Hermione will love you. Be yourself Gigi. You're perfect."

Harry leaned down and kissed Gigi, pressing her back against the wall of the closet. Gigi cupped her hands around Harry's jaw, breathing in the scent of his shaving cream and savoring the sweet mint taste of his breath.

Although Harry had reassured Gigi that Ron and Hermione would love her, Gigi was still nervous when Saturday night rolled around. She dressed and undressed nearly six times. When she finally settled on a red, wrap-around dress, Gigi turned to her hair. In her busy schedule, she hadn't had time to have her hair trimmed for a few weeks. Her hair was longer than usual; it was wavy and nearly reached the base of her neck. Gigi picked up her wand up off the sink and began to curl her hair, slowly creating large curls that spaced out between straight pieces. She had just finished when there was a loud rapping on her bedroom window.

Gigi jumped a foot in the air, and then peered out around the bathroom door. Her house was empty, save for her, and there were no other sounds except the small taps her flats made on the tile as she took tentative steps towards her bedroom. Gigi held her wand out in front of her, her stomach contracting nervously.

When she entered her room, Gigi felt like laughing. The loud noise had come from the tree outside her balcony. In the wind and rain, a branch had snapped off and hit the window.

"God," Gigi said aloud, rolling her eyes. She turned and went back into the bathroom to perfect her make-up before Harry arrived. Gigi's stomach calmed itself almost immediately. Though she had seen the branch, Gigi had missed another element outside her window. In the shadows of a tree was a figure, perched on another branch, holding onto the trunk for dear life. The figure tensed as she watched, but when Gigi left, it quickly scrambled further up the tree.

Harry came to pick up Gigi at six sharp. He held a small bunch of lilies in his left hand as he climbed her front steps, and raised his right hand to knock sharply on the door. The door swung open almost immediately to reveal Gigi, looking beautiful but slightly harried.

"You look beautiful," Harry greeted her, and immediately, Gigi relaxed.

"You look handsome," she countered with a smile.

"These are for you," Harry said, brandishing the flowers. Gigi accepted them, and leaned in to smell them. The flowers fluttered slightly, as if the wind was blowing them. "They're leaning lilies. They move towards energy."

"Lilies are my favorite," Gigi gushed, placing them in the glass vase in the front hallway. "I took a trip to California as a kid and I remember seeing them and just being fascinated. Didn't have anything like that in Boston." Gigi shut her front door and locked it behind her.

"I'm glad you like them," Harry responded.

"I like everything that has to do with you," Gigi replied.

"Ready?" Harry said, reaching his hand out towards Gigi. Gigi smiled, and linked her fingers with his. Harry placed his other arm on Gigi's shoulder and apparated on the spot.

Gigi and Harry ended up on a small, lilac-lined street. Modest, brick houses with green lawns were prevalent, and at the end of the street, a beautiful brick chapel with wide windows loomed over the houses. Gigi breathed in deeply. "This is it," Harry said, pointing at the first house, which had a shiny, red car out in front.

"They drive?" Gigi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hermione does," Harry laughed. "She's been bugging Ron about it for a few years now."

The door opened wide and light spilled out into the lawn. A figure appeared in the doorway.

"Harry!" A voice said. Hermione Granger, bushy haired and obviously pregnant, tottered out of the house and down the driveway.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry said with a smile. He took a few steps forward to reach Hermione before she could walk any further. Hermione hugged Harry, and then pulled away to pat his cheek. "Hermione, this is Gigi." Harry looked back at Gigi and held out his hand.

Gigi smiled nervously and walked towards them, clutching the handle of her purse so tightly that the leather strap nearly cracked.

"Nice to meet you," she said, extending a hand to Hermione, who shook it strongly.

"Finally," Hermione laughed. "Harry's said so much, it's about time we met. Officially, that is. I saw you once, in that restaurant…"

"Hermione," Harry said in a warning tone, the back of his neck turning red. Hermione just smiled happily at Gigi, who grinned at Harry. Harry tucked his hands in his pockets, and Gigi linked an arm through his.

"Come inside," Hermione told Gigi and Harry. "Ron's setting up the table, and I've made some really good pork chops."

"Perfect," Gigi said, falling into step with Hermione. "I love pork chops, but my mom hated making them when I was a kid."

"You've come to the right place," Hermione told Gigi. "I was raised by muggles, so I'm used to cooking traditional muggle dishes to perfection."

When Gigi entered Ron and Hermione's house, she paused to look around. The front entry was painted a soft orange, set aglow from beautiful amber lamps on a side table. As Harry shrugged off his jacket, Gigi looked at the framed photos on the table. There was one of Hermione and Ron at their wedding, kissing demurely. One of Hermione, Ron and Harry as teenagers, and another photo of them as teens, standing with a redheaded family that could only be the Weasleys. In the photo, Harry was standing next to a very pretty longhaired girl who looked to be his age. Harry and the girl in the photo glanced at each other, smiled, and then blushed.

"Harry!" A voice said. Ron emerged from the next room. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and then stared at Gigi. "Good work."

"Ron!" Hermione said in an astonished voice, as Harry and Ron laughed uproariously. Gigi grinned and stuck out her hand.

"Gigi Meyers."

"Ron Weasley," Ron introduced himself.

Hermione might have been a brilliant legislator, but she was also a great cook.

"Hermione, this is great. Really," Harry said, gesturing to his plate. "I haven't had food this good since Hogwarts."

"Kreacher was decent," Ron argued. He sighed and let out a small belch, and then placed more pork chops on his plate. "It pains me to say I miss Kreacher."

"It shouldn't pain you," Hermione said, squinting at Ron. But then she smiled. "Poor Kreacher. Bless his soul, he was the weirdest house elf I've ever met."

Harry chuckled at that.

"Have you ever met a house-elf Gigi?" Ron asked.

"No," Gigi replied, taking a sip of her water. "Um, we don't use house elves in America. Dwarves are primarily used, but they can be rather rude. My mom wouldn't let them in the house."

Hermione nodded at that.

"So what do you do at the Ministry, Gigi?" Hermione asked politely, even though Gigi knew that both Ron and Hermione knew exactly what she did.

"I'm a publicist," Gigi responded. "I uh…I used to work under the Minister, but now I work for the Aurors office and Magical Law Enforcement, under special occasions."

"So that's how you met Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Gigi replied, smiling at Harry. Under the table, Harry brushed his foot against hers.

"She hated me at first," Harry teased and Gigi blushed deeply.

"Hate is a strong word," she mumbled, and Ron and Hermione laughed.

"So you two are dating then?" Ron asked shrewdly. "I mean, seriously?"

"Ron," Hermione interrupted. She leaned across the table towards Gigi. "You'll have to excuse my husband, he has no filter." Ron stole a kiss from Hermione as she leaned back in her chair, and she tried to stifle a smile.

"It's fine," Harry said.

"Yeah," Gigi said, glancing at Harry. "I…"

"We're dating," Harry confirmed.

"Thank God," Ron said, taking another bite of food and shoveling more down. "Harry's been babbling about you since you came to work for him."

"Someone's putting their foot in their mouth an awful lot tonight," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at Ron. Gigi smiled gently and took a sip of her oak-mulled mead.

After dinner, Harry and Gigi thanked Ron and Hermione for a wonderful evening. Hermione hugged Gigi and told her not to be a stranger, and Ron gave Harry a thumbs up behind Gigi's back.

"See you guys next week." Harry waved back at Ron and Hermione as he and Gigi stepped over the threshold to their home.

"They're great," Gigi said to Harry as the door shut behind them. "I always knew Hermione Granger was supposed to be clever, but she's brilliant. I'm in awe."

"They liked you a lot," Harry told Gigi, leaning down to whisper in her ear. He placed a hand on the small of her back, and Gigi felt her insides melt, like butter on mashed potatoes.

"Why don't you take me home?" She asked him, placing a hand on his arm. "Have a glass of wine?"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked with a grin. "Because I was just planning on letting you walk home by yourself…"

"Shut up," Gigi said, tapping smartly on his elbow. She grabbed Harry's hand, and this time, Gigi was the one to apparate, leading Harry home. Gigi and Harry entered her house, unaware of a figure watching them from the roof. When the door shut, the figure climbed onto the roof of the next home and apparated.

"Wine? Water? Beer?" Gigi asked, placing her purse on the kitchen counter and opening the fridge. Harry didn't answer, but instead, walked forward, grabbed Gigi's waist and pulled her out of the fridge. "What are you doing?" She asked. But all Harry did was lean down and kiss her, running his tongue over Gigi's bottom lip, leaving her light-headed. "No beer then," Gigi said, shutting the fridge with a kick of her foot.

"You look really beautiful tonight," Harry told Gigi, moving a hand through her hair, shifting it off her neck. He leaned down and kissed the nape of Gigi's neck lightly.

"I…" Gigi paused and bit her lip. She contemplated what she was about to say next, and then decided in the moment. "Give me a moment. I have to run upstairs." She pressed a finger to Harry's lips and smiled. "Just a moment." She leaned in and kissed Harry, and then pushed herself off the counter and darted from the room, faster than a hummingbird.

Gigi had planned this moment in her mind for nearly months now. She would run into her bedroom, light the vanilla candles that resided on the shelf above her bed, and then strip off her clothe. As Gigi walked down her upstairs hallway, she deliberated further. She had lingerie she could wear, of course, but black or cream? Should she even be thinking of this? Was this all happening too fast? However, Gigi's brain stream stopped as she reached the end of the hallway. Her bedroom door was creaked open. Gigi cocked her head slightly. She was sure she had closed it on her way out. Gigi took a few more steps forward and laid a palm on the front of the door. She pushed it open gently.

Harry, who had been sitting on a bar stool this whole time, was startled as he heard a shrill scream come from overhead. Harry jumped from his chair, knocking it to the ground. He dug into his pocket and ran up the wood stairs, taking them two at a time.

"Gigi?" Harry called out, making his way down the pristine hallway. The hallway creaked slightly, but he could hear Gigi's voice over the sound.

"Oh my god," she was saying. Gigi appeared in the doorway at the end of the hall. She was shaking. "Someone broke into my room." Harry moved forward, still holding his wand out in front of him like a gun.

"Jesus," Harry said, pushing open the bedroom door further. A mirror was pushed down on the ground shattered into a million pieces. Gigi's bed covers were slit open, as were her pillows, and the feathers were scattered everywhere. All the books were taken down off Gigi's wide, mahogany bookshelf. Many were cracked open and the pages were torn and crumpled. The curtains were slit from top to bottom, and the glass in the balcony door was shattered. Harry had a flashback to his second year, to his dormitory room, where his belongings were scattered and torn to shreds. Gigi's room almost mirrored that scene exactly.

"There was a note," Gigi said in a quavering voice. She held up a parchment envelope. On the front was Harry's name written in rich, green ink. Harry took the envelope from Gigi, turned it over, and slid his finger under the slit, opening the letter.

_You think you were rid of me, Potter? Not quite yet. I will persist until I succeed, and until I do so, I will ruin you and the ones you love._

Harry exhaled deeply and stuck his the letter in his pocket.

"Come on," he said to Gigi. "Pack some clothes. You aren't staying here tonight." Gigi, who was still shaking, nodded. She sauntered closer to Harry, and then hugged him, pressing her head against his chest.

"I don't want to know what the letter said," she said in a small voice. "I just need to know that I will be safe."

"You'll be fine," Harry re-assured her. "You'll sleep at my place tonight. No one will find you there."

Gigi nodded, patted Harry on the arm, and then walked into her closet. Harry heard her take down a suitcase and begin to fill it with clothes. Harry looked around the room and waved his wand, sending a notification to Magical Law enforcement by way of patronus. Gigi returned, a blue leather suitcase in hand. She shakily looked around the room once more, shivered again and grabbed Harry's hand. He rubbed her shoulder consolingly and took her other hand in his.

"I know it feels violating," he said quietly, and Gigi nodded. "We'll put extra security around. No one's going to mess with you."

"Thank you," Gigi said gratefully. Harry looked around the room once more, making sure he didn't miss anything, and then apparated. When Gigi and Harry arrived outside of 798 Bute Sumner Place, the residence of Mr. Harry J Potter, Gigi held onto Harry's hand as he lead her inside.


	11. Chapter 11

Gigi was a bit apprehensive as she arrived at Harry's place. As Gigi climbed the front steps, she studied the old brick exterior, the wide windows, the polished brass handle of the black door. Harry took his wand from is pocket and flicked it upwards. The gas lanterns that sat on either side of the door lit up, flames licking against the glass, and the front door gently opened.

"I can take your bag," Harry offered, reaching for Gigi's suitcase.

"It's fine," she said, following him inside. She was pleasantly surprised by her surroundings. Harry's house was comfortable, but cleaner than she had expected. His living room was round, and filled with brown leather chairs and a big sofa on a cream colored shag carpet. There was a big, old fashioned wireless in the corner, a small bookshelf, and a grandfather clock that ticked slowly.

"This way, then," Harry said, walking through the living room. He turned the corner and began to walk up the stairs. They creaked ever-so-lightly as Gigi made her way up them, but she didn't mind. They were old-fashioned, and that added to the charm of them. The wall that the staircase was built into was brick, but portraits of Harry's family members managed to stay up on the brick. They all slumbered softly as Gigi passed, but she had a feeling that they were all watching her out of the corner of their eyes. "So…" Harry paused in the middle of the hallway. "There's a guest room here, if you want it…" he trailed off slightly as Gigi peaked past him into the room.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer to sleep in your room." She blinked up at Harry. "I'm a little scared after that."

"Scared?" Harry asked. "Gigi Meyers? Actually scared?" He grinned a little to lighten the mood, and Gigi pinched his arm. "I don't mind at all." He took a step closer to Gigi and placed a finger under her chin, so he could tilt it up towards him. "I would prefer it too."

Gigi fluttered her eyelashes lightly, and Harry ran his thumb down the side of her jaw.

Harry and Gigi joined hands and continued to walk down the hall, to the end, where Harry's bedroom was located. In the middle of the room was a gigantic, plush bed, complete with handsome wood foot and headboards, there was another leather chair in the corner, and under the window, a desk. There was an armoire in the corner, a mirror over that, and a broomstick was propped up in the furthest corner of the room. The roof appeared simply not to exist. "It's glass," Harry told Gigi as she stared up, astounded by the ceiling.

"It's so beautiful," Gigi murmured, dropping her suitcase. She walked into the middle of the room, still staring at the visible sky. "It's so clear."

"When I bought the house, I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to have that feature put in. The Ministry thought it would be safer if I didn't have something glass, something so vulnerable and fragile."

"They thought someone would try to break in through the roof," Gigi noted, glancing at Harry. He shrugged.

"Yeah. But I decided to have it put in anyway. I'm not going to enjoy what I want just because there _might _be someone out there who wants to hurt me. I'm not going to stop my life for them."

"Good strategy," Gigi said approvingly. "Don't be intimidated, unless you're the intimidator."

"I'm never intimidating," Harry replied. "Come on now. I'm not intimidating in the slightest."

"Everyone can be intimidating," Gigi pointed out. "Depends on how. I'm not intimidated of you as a boss, but when it comes to us, yeah I'm intimidated. You could break my heart, shatter it even."

Gigi's arms trembled a bit as she said this, as if they were protesting her declaration of these words. Her body rejected the vulnerability it had just projected.

"Does that mean I have your heart?" Harry asked, stepping closer to Gigi. Gigi's brown eyes widened a bit. "If I was to break it, I would have it, wouldn't I?"

"You have my heart," Gigi pledged. She placed a hand on Harry's chest. "You've had it for a long time."

"Oh yeah?"

"Remember when we first took that trip to Hogwarts?" Gigi asked. "Where you gave that press conference on defense? And we had to stay in that shabby inn?"

"When you told me about that tattoo?" Harry ran his fingers over Gigi's shoulder.

"That was when I realized I really really liked you. My head was telling me it was illogical to like you, and that I really shouldn't. But my heart conquered my thoughts, not something that happens often." Gigi turned away from Harry, as if she had said too much.

"You've had my heart since we first met," Harry revealed to Gigi, and she took in a sharp breath. "When you stomped into the Auror's office, so pissed at having to work there…I thought your persona was breathtaking. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Still are."

Gigi hesitantly took Harry's hand in her own. She looked up at the sky once more, and then yawned slightly.

"I need sleep," she said.

"I know," Harry replied. He picked up her suitcase and handed it to her. "Bathroom's right through there." He nodded towards a door Gigi hadn't noticed earlier. As Gigi slipped into the bathroom to change, Harry changed quickly and then slipped into bed. He put his arms behind his head and looked up to the sky.

He remembered back to his Hogwarts days, when he had the most peculiar class. He had been taught by the Centaur, Fiernze, and the class had been in a classroom where the heavens were visible overhead. He remembered how, in a few classes, Fiernze had told them that certain planets symbolized different myths, different dangers, different emotions. Mars was war, anger, and decisiveness, where as Neptune was serene, morose. The planet that stood out the brightest was the telltale symbol of the viewers deepest emotions. Tonight, the night Harry had revealed something so personal to Gigi, felt such an immense connection to the woman of his affections, Venus was high in the sky.

Venus, the planet of love, sensuality, and at times, lust.

At that moment, the door to the bathroom slid open. Gigi padded out, wearing the same thing she had worn when she had slept next to Harry in the Hogs Head. But this time, things were different. And both Harry and Gigi knew it.

Gigi smiled at Harry as she set down her bag. She walked over to the bed, climbed onto the end, and began to walk forward on the mattress on her hands and knees, her hair falling over her face. When she was just inches from Harry's face, she leaned forward and ran her fingers lightly over his hairline. She ran those fingers over his collarbone, and then down his chest. She leaned forward and kissed Harry deeply, and Harry responded easily, accepting her touch, rolling her over so he could press her down into the mattress, his lips fused to hers.

They broke apart, each panting slightly. Harry, driven nearly mad with the lust Gigi had installed in him, leaned down and began to kiss her neck, causing her to arch her back in desire. His touch was as light as a feather and as cool as ice on her white-hot skin. His lips suckled slightly on her pores, and Gigi began to feel as if she was melting at his touch. She wanted him to never stop touching her, but she knew in her heart that this was not the right time. Not now, it was too much too soon.

"Goodnight, Harry," Gigi said, suddenly yanking her legs up and shoving them under the sheets. Harry paused, unsure of what was going on, and then caught a glimpse of Gigi's slight smirk.

"Unfair," he laughed, kissing her bare shoulder. "You really had me going."

"I didn't want you to stop either," Gigi admitted, slinking down in the sheets. Harry shook his head, but smiled at her. He took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand next to him.

"Goodnight," he told her, turning off the lights with a swish of his wand. He opened the door to the nightstand and placed his wand in it.

"I'm glad I'm here," he heard Gigi whisper to him. He turned to see her expression, but she was laying on her side, her back to him. In the light from outside, he could make out the scar on her back.

"If you got a tattoo, what would you get?" He asked her. He reached out and touched the scar, and Gigi's arm tensed the slightest bit. "I mean now. I know why you got the one you did."

"I don't know," Gigi mused, turning over onto her back. She looked up into the sky. "If I got one at all, it would have to mean something to me. Be something really important. The one before, I thought it did but it didn't really. I was so young."

"You still are," Harry pointed out. Gigi smiled at him. She inched closer to Harry, and he reached out an arm and pulled her into his side. They fell asleep like that, their arms around each other. Gigi fell asleep easily that night. When she was at home, she would read first to try to sleep. Sometimes, she would wake up in the middle of the night, often periodically. But tonight, she slept like a rock.

Harry loved falling asleep next to Gigi. He had fallen asleep next to one other girl in his lifetime, and that was Ginny Weasley. She was a terrible sleeping partner, as she had tossed and turned and flew into a rage during her sleep, tossing her hair and lashing out with fists. Gigi was soft and demure in her sleep. She made no noise, she hardly moved at all, except for a small sigh every now and then, and a twitch of her foot. Harry was content just to kiss the back of her bare neck, place his jaw on her shoulder and place his arm on top of hers, so she could sleepily twist their fingers together, creating a sort of human pretzel.

Gigi woke up early, as usual. She woke up, careful to slip out from Harry's grip without waking him. She walked over to her bag, took out her running clothes, and slipped them on. She looked back at Harry to make sure he was still asleep, and then she quietly tip-toed out of the room, out the house, and closed the door behind her gently, as gently as she could manage. She stepped out onto the street and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, which tingled in her throat.

"Gigi?" Someone asked. She opened her eyes and to see Hermione, standing on the street in front of Harry's house. She held a container of food in one hand, and her car was parked right out in front. Gigi felt herself blush under Hermione's direct gaze.

"Hi," Gigi said awkwardly. She swung her ponytail over one shoulder and examined the ends. "I was just going out for a run."

"From Harry's house?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I…" Gigi found herself at a loss for words. But then, remarkably, Hermione's expression softened.

"Let's go for a walk," Hermione said in a tone that indicated that Gigi really had no choice. Gigi fell into step with Hermione, walking down the leaf-covered street, past the other joggers and mothers out pushing their children in strollers. Hermione's pregnant belly protruded in front of her by a few inches.

"So when are you due?" Gigi asked, nodding to Hermione's belly.

"April," Hermione answered, suddenly beaming. She placed a hand on her stomach.

"Boy or Girl?" Gigi asked.

"Girl," Hermione said with a brisk nod. "Relieved, actually. Is that bad? No. I'm relieved." Gigi let out a small giggle. Hermione smiled vacantly. "So you slept at Harry's last night?"

So it began.

"Yeah. My house was broken into last night, so Harry invited me to stay."

"Oh, that's awful," Hermione exclaimed, her hand going to her heart. "I assumed…"

"Of course you did," Gigi finished. "Anyone would have."

Hermione paused in step, still clutching the container of leftovers. "I'm too direct, I've always been. Too pushy and intrusive but Harry is my best friend, next to Ron. I just, I need to make sure everything is okay for him."

"I understand," Gigi replied. "I'm always cautious."

"Do you love him?" Hermione stopped and stared at Gigi, their brown eyes piercing each other. Gigi hesitated in answering. Love was the strongest word in her vocabulary. It could be the most hurtful and yet, the most lovely word. Did she love Harry? Gigi considered it. While it was true that she shrunk away from strong feelings, she also was beginning to accept them. Harry had changed her. She felt more, coped with more, and enjoyed more. And here was the kicker: Gigi loved everything about Harry. She loved how he wore suits to work. She loved how his hair stuck up in the back of his head. She loved how he said her name, and how when he kissed her, his hands cupped her back. She loved it when his eyes blazed when he saw her, and how everything he said was so inexplicably perfect. Most of all, Gigi loved that when she was with Harry, she loved everything about her life, and everything about herself. She couldn't imagine herself being happier or more carefree or with anyone else in the world.

"Yes," Gigi answered slowly. "I love him a lot. More than anyone I've ever been with."

Hermione smiled at her.

"I can tell," she said. "You know he cares deeply for you. When you first came to work for him, he told Ron that you scared him. Because you were so perfect, he thought you had to have some kind of fatal flaw. So far, he can't find one."

"He puts me on a pedestal I don't deserve," Gigi argued. "He'll find out in time."

"Just…don't hurt him, okay?" Hermione bit her lip as they turned the corner. "He's already been through more pain than any one person should have to bear."

"I would never intent to hurt him," Gigi responded. Hermione smiled at her words.

"Good," she said, as they turned back onto Harry's block. "Er…would you mind taking this up to him? He loves leftovers, but I don't really think I should take it into him at the moment."

"Sure," Gigi said, accepting the container of pork chops. The two women gave each other brief smiles and then, Gigi began to walk back up the stairs of Harry's apartment.

"Gigi?" Hermione asked, rolling down the window to her car. "I never mean to be as pushy as I do."

"I do," Gigi replied, causing Hermione to laugh. Hermione waved, rolled up the car window, and took off down the street. Gigi opened the door to Harry's house and walked inside.

She felt as if her heart was bursting. The sun was beginning to filter through the windows, and here she was, in a beautiful, safe house with the man she loved. She _**loved **_him. It had all Gigi took not to scream it out to the neighborhood. Instead, she walked into Harry's kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Twenty minutes later, Harry awoke to the smell of bacon, eggs and toast. Sleepily, he pulled the covers off his legs, put on his glasses, and headed downstairs.

Gigi was standing in the kitchen, her wand poised over the stove. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing tight-fitting running clothes, but she showed no sign of any physical exertion. Unaware of his presence, Gigi walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of orange juice, fresh-squeezed.

"Good morning," Harry suddenly said, and she jumped a bit. She turned to face him, a small smile playing around her lips.

"Hi," she said brightly. "Oh, I wish you had waited a bit longer to wake up. I was making you breakfast in bed."

"Why?" Harry asked. "I've never had anyone make me breakfast in bed."

"Because you were so good to let me stay here," Gigi supplied with a shrug. She went back to the stove and shook the pan around a bit. Harry walked up behind her and kissed her lightly on the neck. Gigi smiled and pulled her head down to her other shoulder, so Harry could kiss his way along her collarbone.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her on the jaw. "And you didn't have to do this. Really, I wouldn't have wanted you to stay anywhere else."

"I wanted to stay here," Gigi points out. She took the pan off the stove, whisked it over to the counter and poured the contents out on a plate. She had made a perfect omelet. "Hermione stopped by."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. "She left leftovers, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Gigi said, raising an eyebrow.

"She thinks because I'm single I can't cook," Harry said. "Which, sadly, is true. I eat out almost all the time now, ever since Kreacher died."

"Well, don't worry about it," Gigi piped up, putting the pan in the sink. She walked over to Harry, slipped a hand around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. When she let go of his neck, Harry pulled on her jacket pockets, still keeping her closer. Gigi pulled away with a giddy laugh. "You're not single anymore."

"No, I'm not," Harry agreed, his smile just as wide as Gigi's.


	12. Chapter 12

On the first of December, it snowed eight inches. Gigi woke early to find the flakes spiraling past her window, sticking to the trees outside. She got up and padded over to the window and pressed her face to the glass, so she could look out onto the street below. On the sidewalk, slick patches of ice were just visible under the thickly falling snow. Funnily enough, the snow didn't seem to reach Gigi's front steps. She sighed and turned away from the window, heading for her bathroom.

Ever since her house had been broken into, extra security measures had been put into place. Gigi's house was now surrounded by a security bubble, and only those approved by her could enter. The first few days after the break-in, Harry had insisted an Auror stand outside, just to be safe. He had even come to her house a few times, just to check on her.

However, Gigi wasn't scared anymore. While it had been shocking and yes, frightening, at first, Gigi relied heavily on Harry's philosophy. She wasn't going to stop living because someone scared her. She had come home from Harry's house the following day, and began to tidy her room. Magical Law Enforcement had taken a few of her things for evidence, but Gigi was able to piece back her room, for the most part. By the first of December, Gigi felt secure, as secure as could be. All she wished is that she could watch the snow stick to her windows, feel the cold as the flakes piled up on the glass. She couldn't wait until the person who had broken into her house and committed all the murders was caught. That way, she could go back to living without the security measures.

While Gigi struggled to return to normalcy, Harry struggled with his ever-growing frustration with his job. When Gigi's house had been broken into, Harry felt his first pang of fear. He knew, deep down, that whomever he was dealing with was far more dangerous than he had originally thought. The killer was calculated and cold, but he was also extremely observant. He had known that Gigi and Harry were involved, obviously, which meant he had been watching Harry and Gigi for months.

The attention around the break-in hadn't been easy to control. The note the intruder had left had been tested for any type of DNA or fingerprints or magic, but no one could find anything. The public was in uproar about the case, completely terrified that a dangerous murderer walked amongst them. Everyday, hundreds, if not thousands, of letters poured into the Aurors office about the case. Some contained useless hints, tips, and leads that ultimately lead nowhere, and some contained the anger and concerns of the wizarding world. Harry felt as if the weight of the world was upon his shoulders.

On top of this all, Harry and Gigi's relationship had become somewhat strained. Because they were both so busy with work, their time together became limited. And when they were in the office, Gigi insisted on a stiff decorum, so that their co-workers would be unaware of their relationship. While both Harry and Gigi agreed that their co-workers shouldn't know of their relationship, at times, Harry wondered if it would all just be easier if everyone knew, that way, he and Gigi could act normally and happy and spend more time with each other without the awkward stiffness that lingered whenever they chatted in front of others.

Gigi could also feel the strain in their relationship. She loved Harry with all her heart, and yet, she didn't have the courage to tell him. As things became more serious, and therefore, more complicated, she felt her courage dim. She still refused to tell her co-workers about her and Harry's relationship because she didn't want to be ocstracized. Gigi had worked hard to get the job she did, and as much as she loved Harry, she didn't want to lose her job.

On December 1st, however, Harry decided that this would change. He apparated to Gigi's house at ten 'o clock in the morning. He had worn his heaviest coat and a scarf that was bundled around the length of his whole neck, to stop the biting winds from nipping at his skin. He knocked sharply on Gigi's door and then tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to answer.

Gigi answered the door a few seconds later. She looked surprised to see Harry, but smiled when she saw his face.

"Hi," she said brightly. "I…I didn't expect to see you this morning."

"I had an idea," Harry told her, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door behind him. He couldn't help but smile as he saw her. Even though he wished dearly she wasn't always so stubborn, he couldn't imagine being happier with anyone else. He leaned down and cupped her jaw in his hands, kissing her deeply. Gigi closed her eyes in ecstacy and let her head roll back. When Harry began to pull away, she grabbed his scarf and yanked him closer.

"Was that your idea?" Gigi asked. "Because if this is your idea, we could put it into motion."

"No," Harry said with a smile. "Though, I don't mind doing that either." He pulled Gigi's hands into his. "I thought we could go out on a date."

"A date?" Gigi said incredulously. "It's ten in the morning."

"So?" Harry replied. "I heard you telling Effy this week that you wanted to go ice skating when the pond in St. James's park froze over. And guess what? It did."

"Someone's certainly eager," Gigi said with a smirk, her mouth curling up at the corners.

Harry shrugged. "I can't remember the last time I did something like this. It must've been my first or second year. Come on, indulge me. It will be fun."

Gigi tapped her lips with her fingertips, and then smiled.

"Alright," she agreed. She beckoned Harry forward, and then said in a small voice: "Just get ready, Harry James Potter. I am going to outshine you. You are looking at the Junior Skating Champion of the Boston Region for the 5-10 age group."

"Damn," Harry said with a low whistle and a sneer. "I have some tough competition."

"This isn't fun and games," Gigi called over her shoulder as she ran upstairs to change. "I'm going to destroy you."

20 minutes later, Harry and Gigi sat on a log on the edge of the lake in St. James's Park, putting on their skates. Gigi's were bright green, and rather beat up. Harry had laughed when he saw them, and Gigi had punched him on the shoulder.

"Shut up," she had warned. "I wore these when I was a teenager. They were really cool back then."

"That color?" Harry teased.

"They match your eyes," Gigi retaliated, and Harry stopped laughing at once.

"So you were a skating champion?" He asked. "A woman of many talents."

"For a bit," Gigi replied, lacing up her skates, knotting them extra tightly. "Back before I went to Salem. When my mum hadn't told me I was…special. Still a muggle."

"Ah," Harry said lightly. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I was a 'muggle' up until age eleven, and I still don't know how to skate."

"I'll teach you," Gigi laughed. "Come on, put on your skates." Harry tied up the skates he had rented from a small boathouse near the end of the pond, and then grabbed Gigi's hand. Gigi shuffled out onto the ice, and tentatively touched a blade to the surface. She began to move backwards, her skates gliding effortlessly over the ice, pulling Harry along with her. She let go of his hands and Harry nearly fell over, but quickly regained his balance "You're not bad," Gigi said, as Harry skated forward a few feet, shakily, but successfully.

"You're brilliant though!" Harry pointed out as Gigi moved easily through the other skaters. She wiped her hands on her jeans and then circled Harry, causing him to nearly fall over. She laughed as he reached out to grab her. "That wasn't funny," he said, but grinned, as she held onto his arms. Gigi released him and said:

"Wait here for a moment." Gigi skated away, towards the center of the pond, her eyes closed. Her body moved somewhat in time, as if she was dancing to music only she could hear. Harry watched her move away, her skates a flash of green in the white. Gigi slowly tensed her body, and then began to spin, her skates slicing into the ice. Her body was like a whirling top, a blur of movement, her hair flying out as she turned. Slowly, Gigi raised her arms, and then, concentrated, slowly lifted one leg. Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. Gigi had raised her leg nearly parallel to her face. Without really thinking about it, Harry slowly skated towards her, his skates stuttering a little as he went. He reached out for Gigi as he came, slipping a little, and she grabbed his elbows before he could fall. She laughed.

"Did you see that?" She asked gleefully. "I can't believe I can still do that."

Harry didn't reply, he just leaned down and kissed her, right there on the ice, even though he was slipping a little. When he pulled away, Gigi's face was red and her skin was hot. She bit her lip and looked around, but no one seemed to mind. She tried to fight a silly grin from spreading over her face.

"I love you," Harry said. He tucked a strand of hair behind Gigi's ear.

"Oh no," she said, backing up a little. Gigi held a hand over her mouth, and Harry panicked.

"What?" He asked, his insides churning. Was it too soon? They had only been dating, what, a month? But Harry had loved her from the moment he saw her, and he had a feeling she felt the same way.

"I was going to tell you that," Gigi said, stomping her ice skate into the ice. It left a sharp groove and she had to yank up her leg. "But you beat me to it."

"Are you seriously mad?" Harry asked, his heart beating loudly. He tried to conceal his smirk.

"Far from it," Gigi retorted. She threw her arms around Harry's neck and kissed him as passionately as she could. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, and in the moment, he lifted her up slightly, so her skates just left the ground. Gigi nestled her hands on the back of Harry's neck, beneath his scarf and jacket collar, so she could feel her fingertips against his skin. His skin burned red-hot at her touch. Harry slowly let her back down on the ice, his breath ragged. Gigi stuck the tips of the skating blades into the ice, and leaned her forehead against his.

"I meant it," Harry said, his lips skimming against Gigi's upper lip.

"Obviously," Gigi replied. She rocked back onto her skates and grabbed Harry's hand in hers. "Can we take a walk?"

"Anything," Harry replied, happy just to spend time with her.


	13. Chapter 13

After they declared their love for each other, Harry and Gigi left the pond. Gigi had carefully mulled over her thoughts as she slowly untied her skates. She glanced up at Harry, who was returning his own skates to the rental shack a few feet away. He was smiling as he returned them. Gigi felt herself smile slowly. She had no regrets, no matter how scared she was. She stood up, tied the laces of her skates together, and slung them over her shoulder, so one rested against her hip, the other against the small of her back.

"Ready?" Harry asked, returning to her side. He reached out and brushed a finger against her cheek, and although her skin was cold, Gigi felt instantly warmer when Harry touched her.

"Where to now?" Gigi asked, as they began to trek through the ice and snow, back up to the main entrance of the park. She tucked her hands in her pockets and glanced up at her boyfriend. Her _boyfriend. _The word filled her with girlish excitement she usually looked down on. She couldn't stand those muggle girls, who sat on the subways with their friends, chatting excitedly about the lads they were meeting later, and giggling too loudly in reply to eager questions. Gigi realized that she felt like foolish girls, like she was flying. Gigi was so in love that she didn't even care.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked. He stopped to brush some snow out of his messy hair. "We could-"

He just began to form words when someone called out Gigi and Harry's names. Across the street from the park was Harry and Gigi's co-worker, Taylor. Gigi felt the content bubble that had been swelling in her chest pop with the sight of him. Harry tightened his lips at the sight of Taylor. He knew the guy had it bad for Gigi, so it didn't really thrill Harry to see him.

"Hi Taylor," Gigi said quietly as he began to approach Gigi and Harry. Harry waved at him.

"What are you guys doing here?" Taylor asked cheerfully. He looked expectantly at Harry and Gigi. After a second, his eyebrows knitted together. "Are you guys here alone?"

Harry was about to tell him that yes, they were by themselves, because they were dating, thank you very much. He also wanted to tell him that he got to kiss Gigi everyday, just to rub some salt in the wound, but couldn't bring himself to go that far.

"Yea-" Harry began, but Gigi interrupted.

"No. Well, I mean, we were." She babbled. "We're meeting someone here. Hermione Granger. She's a close friend of both of ours." She bit her lip. Harry felt a slight flare of annoyance that Gigi brought Hermione into her lie. But really, he was more annoyed at the fact that he couldn't tell Taylor anything he wanted to say. Even if Gigi loved him like she said she did, she was as secretive as always.

"Yeah," Harry said stiffly. "Hermione should be here soon."

Taylor's eyebrows relaxed, and he turned to talk to Gigi, with a dreamy look on his face. When he looked at her, Harry could almost _see_ his desire shooting from his eyes. Harry wanted to grab him by the shoulder and throw a punch into his face. Or curse him. Either way, Harry felt like it would be satisfying to do so.

"How do you know Hermione?" Taylor asked Gigi politely. Gigi froze. She knew Hermione through Harry, of course, but she couldn't say that. They had met at a dinner when she and Harry announced their relationship. She could feel the vein in her temple throbbing as she grappled with different lies. _At a gala? Too improbable. At the Ministry? Their work wouldn't have any contact._

"Didn't you know?" Harry asked. "Gigi gave Hermione some interview tips a few weeks ago. She had that big press conference about House elf rights." Harry subtly raised an eyebrow at Gigi, who nodded reverently.

"She…needed my help," she tagged on weakly. Taylor didn't look at Harry, but smiled at Gigi.

"That's so nice of you," he gushed. Gigi smiled weakly in reply, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Erm, Gigi?" Harry piped up, and Gigi glanced at him, her eyes wide, begging for his help. "Hermione will be waiting for us."

"I thought she was meeting you here?" Taylor asked. Harry narrowed his eyes at Taylor. Taylor innocently raised a single eyebrow in reply. Harry knew that under that innocent look, Taylor had a greater understanding of the situation at hand.

"No. Around here," Gigi jumped in. "Sorry Taylor, we should be going." Taylor smiled at her and nodded.

"See you around," he told her. He didn't even say anything to Harry as he began to walk away. Harry silently seethed, and stuck his hands into his pockets. His hand curled around his wand. Gigi didn't say anything as they began to walk, but unless Harry was mistaken, he thought he saw her smirk.

"Why are you smirking?" He demanded of her. "That…moronic bloke…he really likes you," he managed to sputter out.

Gigi's smirk grew wider. She craned her neck over Harry's shoulder to see if Taylor was visible. He wasn't. She linked her arm with Harry's, and then jumped on her toes, so she could plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"I think it's really sexy when you get jealous," she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his earlobe. Harry felt himself relax a bit after that. He and Gigi decided to visit one of the hidden wizard cafes that lined Dorenthea Lane, a small, out of the way wizard's market that was hidden from muggle eyes. The marketplace was nearly empty as Harry and Gigi strolled by the stands, examining the magical fruits, such as the hybrids of pineapple and coconuts. Finally, Harry convinced Gigi to settle down to eat at Due, a darkly furnished brewery. Gigi lead Harry to a table in the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes, even though there was only a few people there.

Harry wanted to grumble at her choice of seating. He wanted to be there, right in the middle of the restaurant, out in the open, where everyone could see them. As uncomfortable as it would be, he wanted to be able to kiss Gigi in public, without the worry of someone from work spotting them. He wished he could've taken Gigi's hand in front of Taylor. He wanted to be able to tell her he loved her, right in the middle of the office. He almost felt himself getting angry at Gigi, but when he looked at her, she smiled. Such a simple movement, but so excruciatingly beautiful that Harry felt his anger evaporate at once.

Gigi ordered a mead from the waitress, and then leaned back in her seat to study Harry.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," she said, blushing. "I just like to look at you is all."

Harry usually hated when people stared at him. It meant they were looking at the scar on his forehead, the famous lightening bolt. But he never minded that Gigi stared at him. He knew she saw more than the slash on his forehead.

"What do you see?" He asked, curious.

Gigi blushed furiously, but continued to talk in a whisper. "Your eyes. They're so…pure and beautiful. And your hair. I like how it's messy, I like the way it sticks out. Your lips. They're so straight…that says so much." She fell silent, embarrassed by how much she had revealed.

"When I look at you," Harry began, leaning across the table. "I see your skin, which is the softest I've ever felt. Your hair is getting longer, and it's wavier. I think it's incredibly sexy when it falls around your shoulders, all wavy like that. I see how truthful your eyes are."

Gigi cracked a smile at that. She liked hearing those things. However, her smile faded when Harry asked his next question.

"What happened with Ryan?"

Gigi felt her stomach drop. She wasn't sure she could be entirely truthful with Harry. She realized that she had to. Even if it tore her up inside, she couldn't lie to the man she loved.

"Why are you asking that?"

Harry shrugged. "You just told me that you loved me. I'm curious what happened to the other guy you loved." Gigi looked down at her hands, and Harry felt guilty. "If you don't want to talk about it, I get it. I just-"

"No, it's okay." Gigi took a deep breath. "You deserve to know."

_Gigi was eleven when she first met Ryan. She had arrived at Salem Academy just an hour previous, and her mother was helping her move her things into her room. Salem had a dorm for each grade, and each student had a room to themselves, but they shared a connecting bathroom with another student. Gigi was decorating her room and carefully unpacking boxes when the bathroom door swung open to reveal a tall, tan, blonde boy standing in the doorway. He took a look at her room._

"_Are you Gigi?" He asked. Gigi paused to glare at him. She placed her clock down on her bed. Who was this boy, barging into her room without knocking? And from the bathroom no less._

"_Yes," she replied tersely. "And who, may I ask, are you?" "Ryan Anderson," he had replied, just standing there, watching her. Gigi turned away, disliking the way that this boy stared at her. His gaze was to direct, it was almost violating. At that moment, her mom had walked in the room, a box in her hands._

"_Oh," she remarked, seeing Ryan. She placed the box down on Gigi's bed. "Who is this, Gigi?" She stuck a hand out for Ryan to shake. Gigi was quiet, and instead, shrugged sullenly._

"_Ryan Anderson," he introduced himself, shaking Gigi's mother's hand. "I'm going to be Gigi's bathroom mate."_

_Gigi whipped around at those words._

"_You are not," she said rudely._

"_Gigi," her mother scolded, though, she too sounded a bit concerned._

"_There was a mix-up," Ryan said. "Didn't have enough boy bathrooms. But I just came to say I'm sorry about it, and that I won't bother your daughter, ma'am. Even though she is quite stunning."_

_Gigi wrinkled her nose. No one had ever called her stunning before. And she knew he was just sucking up to her mother. She couldn't believe she had to share a bathroom with this kid all year. A boy._

"_There's bushes outside," Gigi commented. "It would be easy enough for you to use. Just like a dog."_

"_Gigi!" Her mother said, widening her eyes at her daughter. "Apologize to this young man."_

"_That's quite alright," Ryan told Gigi's mother, and his maturity far exceeded that of an eleven year old. "I wasn't too pleased about the situation either." When he finally said he would be returning to his room, Gigi slammed the bathroom door in his face. She hated him, that stupid boy who used her bathroom, sometimes stole her shampoo, and used the word "quite" too much for any eleven year old._

_Her feelings changed when she was thirteen. Gigi was one of the more gangly, taller girls in her class. Her friend Olivia, was far prettier than Gigi at the time. Almost all the girls were developing, and had pretty colored hair and eyes and knew how to dress and wear make-up. Gigi's hair was long and wavy and usually pulled back, her long limbs caused her to trip a lot, so she always had scabs on her knees, and she didn't wear make-up._

_One day, while eating in the cafeteria with Olivia, Gigi caught Ryan staring at her. He hadn't talked to her in a while, except maybe to say "hi" in the hallways, but Gigi usually ignored him. He was far more popular than Gigi was, he was a star quidditch player, and people said that one day, he would go pro. He was also very good-looking, and all the girls liked him, even Olivia, but Gigi would never admit she found him attractive, even though she did. When she caught Ryan staring at her, Gigi had glared, and he finally looked away._

_One night, after dinner, Gigi was picking flowers behind one of the greenhouses the school used for biology. It was her mother's birthday the next day, and Gigi intended on packaging up a few of the twinkling daisies and sending them to her mother. She had just tied a ribbon around the stems when someone behind her coughed loudly. Ryan was standing there, somewhat sheepishly._

"_It's almost curfew," he told her._

"_So?" She challenged, knotting the ribbon. She cared, of course, she just didn't care that he told her. Gigi turned her back on him._

"_You'll get in trouble." His voice was closer to her now._

"_I don't care," Gigi replied. She turned around to leave, but found herself face-to-face with Ryan. He smiled at her, and Gigi found herself staring at his teeth, which were perfectly white and straight. "You'll get in trouble too," she accused of him._

"_I don't care," he repeated. Ryan Anderson kissed her then and there. It was Gigi's first kiss. She pulled away, surprised, and found herself to be blushing. She had liked it._

"_Sorry," Ryan said, also blushing._

"_What did you do that for?" Gigi asked._

"_I like you," Ryan said simply. "You're different."_

"_But…" Gigi said, all tongue-tied._

_Ryan just smiled._

"_You're not like other girls."_

_But after that, they didn't kiss again, and neither of them brought it up to anyone. However, Gigi found herself staring at Ryan in the hallways. They became friends after that, but Gigi harbored feelings that were more than just friendly._

_Ryan and Gigi started dating in their fifth year, when they both were fifteen going on sixteen._

_By this time, Gigi's lanky arms and legs had grown in. Her hair was sleek and shiny. She was beautiful, young, and smart. And she knew it. And Gigi had her pick of the boys at Salem. But one day, after watching a Quiditch match, Gigi knew what boy she wanted. Salem was playing against Amherst Magical Academy. She watched as Ryan (a chaser) maneuvered his way in and out of the gaps other players left open. She watched as he scored, as he circled the pitch, a wide smile on his handsome face. As he scored once more, he did his customary lap. In the crowd, he saw Gigi. He pointed down to her and winked. Gigi felt herself blush as her friends squealed and shot her curious glances. But just then, a bludger hurdled past the sidelines and caught Ryan on the side of the head. He was thrown from his broom into the grass. Gigi gasped, and without thinking about it, she ran down onto the pitch, and knelt down next to Ryan, even though the referee was blowing his whistle at her, telling her to get off the pitch._

"_Are you okay?" She asked, kneeling down at his side. Ryan sputtered and sat up. He whispered something, but Gigi couldn't hear him, so she leaned closer to catch his words. Instead of repeating what he said, Ryan planted a kiss on her lips. The crowd watching gave whistles and hoots._

"_I'm better now," Ryan grinned, putting a hand on the back of her neck. Gigi was slightly embarrassed that she had been kissed in front of the entire school, but she couldn't help but smile, even when the referees pulled her off the field._

_When Gigi made the decision to move to England, Ryan tried to brave. She broke the news to him on graduation night._

"_I got the job in London," she told him as they sat on the hill that overlooked the school. They were still wearing their dress robes, and Gigi's honors sash was still tightly cinched. "I leave in a few months."_

_Ryan had sighed. He reached for her hand and twisted her fingers in his._

"_I really don't want you to go."_

"_I need to," Gigi had replied. "I'm sorry. It means so much to me."_

_Ryan had turned away, and for a moment, Gigi thought he was crying. Then, he turned around to face her again, and in his hands was a diamond ring. The gem was bigger than her thumbnail, and glittered brightly._

"_Marry me then," Ryan had said. He took Gigi's hand as she gasped. "I asked your father's permission last week. I knew you would go, but I also knew that I still need you. You're all I need."_

"_I…" Gigi had melted. "I will. Of course I will." Ryan had slipped the ring onto her finger, and they had kissed. When she left for England that summer, he had kissed her dutifully at the airport. Ryan made sure to hug her for longer than she could bear, and then, he let her go._

_Gigi's friends joked that she had the longest engagement. By the time she was twenty, she was still engaged to Ryan. They hadn't married yet, but he would fly out to England whenever he could just to see her. He was extremely busy with Quidditch, as the American team had picked him up to be a chaser, but he always found time to slip away to Gigi. One year into their engagement, Gigi felt like it was a mistake. And she wished she could take it back. Her career was so strong, and she was so happy here in England. Ryan was successful and happy back in Boston. Deep down, she knew it wouldn't work, but she was afraid to break it off._

_Her worst fears were confirmed one night. Gigi had just got home from work. It was raining heavily outside, but she had to get ready to go to dinner at Olivia's house. She scrambled upstairs and began to change when she heard a shout outside, and her doorbell rang. Gigi scrunched up her nose in confusion, and slowly descended the stairs. She pulled open her front door. Ryan was standing on her step, his suit soaked, and his hair hanging down in his eyes._

"_Ryan," she said, stunned. "What are you doing here? I wasn't expec-"_

"_Marry me," he interrupted._

_Gigi laughed. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, even though it was raining outside. "We're already engaged. So I think it works out."_

"_No," Ryan said, and Gigi could see that his body was all tensed up. His shoulders were shaking. "Now. Right now. I'm sure there's a church somewhere we could go."_

"_What are you talking about?" Gigi said, amused. "Come inside, I'll pour you a brandy."_

"_No," Ryan insisted. "It's now or never Gigi. I've waited years. I watched you move here and become so successful. I never said anything, I never asked you to start planning the wedding. I was patient. But I can't be patient anymore. It's now or never."_

_Gigi stood stock still, staring at her fiancée. She knew that Ryan was serious, he wanted to run away with her. She didn't know what to say. And that's when it hit her. If she really wanted to get married, she would've done so by now. She would've made the plans. She might not have gone to England in the first place._

"_No," she said with a shake of her head. "I won't get married right now."_

"_Then you lose me, forever," Ryan told her. His hands were shaking, and Gigi thought he could've been crying, though that might have been raindrops running down his face._

"_Ryan, I love you," she said. "So much. But I can't."_

_Ryan chuckled in a non-humorous way. He was bitter. He climbed up another step, and held out his hand._

"_The ring," he said. Gigi felt herself begin to cry as she took it off._

"_Let's talk," she pleaded. "I still love you. I want to be with you. Getting married isn't everything."_

_But Ryan had ignored her. He stuck the ring in his pocket and left. He didn't look back at her. Gigi wrote him and called for weeks. She even took a vacation to Boston, and stopped in at his apartment. He was moved out. She called his mother, but she told Gigi (in a hateful tone) that Ryan didn't want to talk to her, and couldn't she leave him alone? After that, Gigi stopped trying. She became an ice-Queen, interested only in her work and how far it would get her._

_And that was that._

When she was done with her story, Harry leaned back in his chair and exhaled heavily. He ran a hand over his hair. Gigi felt like crying. She had tried to block out all those memories, and now, bringing them back in front of Harry was more painful than she had imagined it ever could've been.

"I'm so sorry." Harry leaned over the table and placed a hand on Gigi's. He stroked his thumb over her fingers. "I will never do that to you."


	14. Chapter 14

When Harry said that, Gigi got a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, like a hurricane started brewing. Because she knew that while he meant it in the moment, eventually, he would do that to her. She cringed at the thought, and instead, sipped her mead and smiled at Harry. She refused to think of that situation, she pushed the thought of losing him from her mind. It wouldn't happen. She couldn't let it happen.

But as much as Gigi refused to think about it, as much as she wished that Harry wouldn't leaver her like Ryan did, she knew in her heart that he would.

Approximately two weeks after their date at the pond, Gigi's worst fears were confirmed.

"Gigi," Effy said, sticking her head in Gigi's office. "It's five. Are you done with those letters? I can send them out before I leave."

"Oh, no thanks, Effy," Gigi said. She smiled in an exasperated manner. "I haven't quite finished them yet. Harry needs to sign them. I'll send them."

Effy smiled back. "No problem. Just doing my job. Oh, and don't forget, The Prophet is releasing that story about the Christmas Gala tomorrow."

"Oh shoot," Gigi replied distractedly. She reached for a piece of parchment, scribbled a reminder on it, and then pinned it to the bulletin board behind her desk. The board was littered with hundreds of scraps of parchment, all graffiti-ed with Gigi's loopy, neat handwriting. "Are you going to that?"

"Of course," Effy said, looking taken aback by Gigi's sudden friendly demeanor. "Lee and I are going. Are you…?" She let her question trail off. Gigi felt the awkward question fill the room like an elephant.

"Going?" Gigi asked. She smiled tightly. "Yes. Flying solo." Gigi subtly glanced at Harry's office. He was packing up for the day. Harry caught Gigi's eye and grinned. Effy smiled sheepishly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Effy said. She grabbed her jacket and purse and left the office. Effy was closely followed by Taylor. He waved eagerly at Gigi on his way out. However, Gigi didn't notice. The only person she had eyes for was Harry. When she was sure that everyone had left, Gigi walked out of her office, crossed the hall and entered Harry's office. He looked up from his things, his eyebrows raised. Gigi shut the door tightly behind her. Without saying a word, she rushed forward, leaned down, and pressed her lips to his.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," Gigi admitted. Harry stood up and wrapped his arms around her. He tipped back her chin so he could press his lips to hers. Gigi's head spun as she held onto his shoulders so she wouldn't fall over.

"Ditto," Harry said. "But I usually think about it twenty-four seven."

"Are you just saying that?" Gigi asked. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

"Yes," Harry teased. He ran a hand over her hair. "Is twenty-four eight possible? That's how much I think about you."

"Mhmm," Gigi mumbled into his shirt. She pulled back and ran her hands down the pressed linen folds. "All I can think about is spending time with you. How much I love you." They both smiled. "How much I want to kiss you."

"So why don't you?" Gigi smiled wider, and then threw her arms around Harry's neck. He leaned her backwards, and they collapsed on Harry's desk, on top of the papers and quills. They didn't care. Harry reached for the buttons on Gigi's shirt, and he slowly began to undo them, resting his hand carefully on her chest. Gigi felt her back arch, and she wanted him to take of her shirt. She wanted to take off his. And yet…

"I don't think we should do this yet," Gigi said, pulling her lips away from Harry's. Harry froze in the process of kissing her collarbone. His head appeared above hers.

"Why?" He wasn't trying to pressure her. Harry didn't want to. He could wait for centuries if she had asked him to. But Gigi's tone was so hesitant…he could tell something was wrong.

"Well, we're in the office," Gigi said. She smirked. "On your desk. Why don't we just get out of here?"

"Wait a second," Harry said. He stood up and looked down at Gigi, his expression solemn. "Is it really that you don't want to have sex in the office? Because I get that. Or is it just that you don't want to have sex in the office with _me?_"

"Don't be ridiculous," Gigi huffed. She sat up and smoothed her now-shoulder length hair. She began to button her shirt, but she was so harried that the buttons didn't match up. "I love you."

Harry placed his hands on her shoulder. "Do you love me enough to kiss me in front of everyone tomorrow? Would you hold my hand in front of Effy? Or hug me in front of Taylor?"

Gigi seized up. She opened her mouth and then closed it. She didn't know how to reply to him.

Harry continued. "Ever since you told me about what happened to you…what happened with…_him_, I can't stop thinking about it. I understand if you didn't love him enough, which I think you made clear. But what about me? You love me, don't you? Why don't you show it, Gigi? I'm not ashamed of what I feel." Harry pulled his hands away from her, as if her skin had burned him. "I don't think you are, but you're so scared. I'm more scared of losing you than I am of anything. But if we take this leap together, we have strength in numbers. I can't…" Harry bent his head. When he looked up at Gigi, his eyes were wet. "I can't lose you. I just can't. You're the best thing to happen to me."

Gigi took an involuntary step back. Her mind was racing, her body was shaking, her heart was on fire. She felt like her skin was screaming. She wished she could be anywhere else. She couldn't look into those dazzling eyes, answer his pleads.

"Why don't you kiss me in front of everyone?" She asked. She quivered. "Why do I have to be the one to take that risk?"

"We would both be taking it," Harry told her. He sat on the edge of his desk. "And there's no doubt in my mind I would do that. But I worry about you. What goes on in that head of yours."

Gigi felt tears spill over her lids. She closed her eyes, as if she could wish away this moment, this pain.

"No," she gasped as the tears began to fall faster and thicker. Harry stood up. He didn't look at her. Slowly, he put on his thick woolen cloak and picked up his briefcase. He didn't look at Gigi as he walked by her. He paused in the doorway. Gigi wanted to take it all back, but she was crying so hard she couldn't manage to speak.

"I think we should spend some time apart," Harry said softly. Gigi slowed her breath.

"But I love you," she managed to choke out. It was the last card she had to play, her last chance.

"That's not enough," Harry replied. He still didn't turn to look at her. "Not this time." He didn't shut the door behind him. He exited the room, and he didn't come back, not even when Gigi slumped down in one of the chairs in front of his chair, sobbing heavily.

Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He didn't want to lose her, he knew that if he truly did, he would go crazy. He wouldn't be able to feel anything. He would be numb, someone simply drifting through life without a second thought. When he walked through the Ministry gates, he paused and watched his breath turn white in front of his face. He apparated home, unlocked his door, and went straight to bed.

Gigi, on the other hand, had another idea. She wiped her eyes, re-buttoned her blouse. She grabbed her purse and left the office. When she arrived at Phoenix, the wizard bar, it was nearly full, even though it was Thursday evening.

"Can I get you something, Miss?" Asked the bartender as she sat down at a stool. He assessed her shaky hands, her rapid breath. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Gigi barked with a wave of her hand. "Strongest thing you've got." She tapped her fingernails impatiently on the bar. The bartender raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. He pulled out a small glass, and then began to fill it with small amounts from different bottles. He pulled out his wand and circled it around the top of the glass. The drink began to broth.

"Get it down while it's hot," he warned Gigi, pushing the glass across the bar. "It works better that way."

Gigi frowned, but picked up the glass. "Here's…" she looked around, and then sighed. "To your health." She downed the glass in a second. It tasted sweet, like fruit juice. "I'll take a second," she said, slamming the glass down on the bar. Her vision already began to blur the slightest bit.

"Hey, Gigi!" Someone said. Taylor appeared at the bar, a pint of ale in one hand. "Didn't think I would see you here."

"Hi, Taylor," Gigi said sloppily. "Just relaxing after work, huh?"

"Always," he said with a quick smile. "Listen, I was hoping I could talk to you."

Gigi downed her drink and signaled to the bartender for another one.

"Anything," she said.

"Are you going to that Gala thing for work?" He asked.

"Of course," Gigi said primly. "I'm the publicist. It is my job after all." She hiccupped.

"I was wondering if you would want to go with me?" Taylor asked.

"Friends," Gigi sang lightly, patting him on the arm. "I love having friends. It sounds great."

"Um, no," Taylor replied with a blush. "I didn't mean as friends."

Gigi blinked at him. She looked down at her frothing drink. It was the same color as Harry's eyes. She ignored the sick feeling in her stomach and turned back to Taylor, a smile on her face.

"I would love to," she purred. She downed her third drink that night.

When Gigi returned home that night, it was nearly one am. She clumsily unlocked her door and stumbled inside. When she tripped over the coat stand, she let out a stream of expletives that would've made a sailor blush. It was only when she walked into the kitchen that she began to cry again. He was gone. And she would be alone. Always. Even if she was in someone else's company, it didn't matter; it would never measure up to the time she spent with Harry. Gigi picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

"Mom," she sobbed when the other line picked up. "I fucked up. I really fucked it up this time." Her mother tried to calm her down but try as she might, she just couldn't seem to calm Gigi. She cried and cried until she passed out on the counter.

When she was late to work the next day, no one said a word. Not even Effy, who was normally so talkative. Gigi had a pounding headache, the worst hangover she had ever had. Her heels just made it worse. The clack-clack on the marble floors sounded like bombs. Her headache got worse when she finally reached the Auror's office. Effy smiled her, but didn't comment on Gigi's slightly scruffier-than-usual appearance.

"Hey, Gigi, that copy of the Daily Prophet arrived a half hour ago. I put it on your desk."

"Thanks," Gigi muttered. She didn't look anywhere near Harry's office. She could just feel his eyes on her. She wanted to cry.

"Oh," Effy added. "I heard you're going with Taylor to the Gala. That's so great, Gigi. I didn't know you guys were dating."

"Huh? Oh…" Gigi snuck a glance towards Harry's office now. The door was open. Harry was sitting straight up, his hair sticking up, his eyes flashing. He watched Gigi carefully. "We aren't dating," she mumbled. "Just going together." Gigi walked into her office without another word and slammed the door behind her.

She didn't do any work for the rest of the day. She never glanced once at the newspaper on her desk. She never sent any newsletters or memos. Gigi just stared at the wall for most of the day. That is, until a sudden flash of red caught her eye. She looked out her window around three 'o clock to see a redheaded woman standing at the reception desk. She was wearing all black. She looked like an ember. With a jolt, Gigi remembered where she had seen this person before.

She was the woman in the picture with Harry, the picture in Ron and Hermione's house. Gigi studied her pretty features critically. Harry emerged from his office, and he waved to the redheaded girl. She waved back. Harry came out to meet her, and they walked out of the office together. Gigi glanced down at her hands. She hated herself.

Harry had written to Ginny the morning after he and Gigi split up. Yes, he had dated Ginny, but aside from Hermione, she was his closest girl friend. She was dating a Quidditch Player from Australia now, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a crooked nose and sandy blonde hair. However, Ginny remained Harry's friend.

"You going to tell me why you called me all the way here?" Ginny asked as she and Harry walked into the hallway.

"I need a favor," Harry said shortly. "Some advice, really."

"On the girl?" Ginny asked, surprising him. She rolled her eyes at his expression. "Be serious, Hermione told me everything."

"Oh," Harry replied. "Well…okay. But last night we split up. She…she didn't want our relationship to be public."

"Well, it was public in front of Ron and Hermione," Ginny pointed out.

"But not in front of anyone else, really," Harry countered. "I just need to be reassured that she loves me."

Ginny considered this. She pushed back her hair and bit her lip. "Maybe she's just shy," she pointed out to Harry. "I was shy about my feelings for you. Remember when I didn't talk to you for a year?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "You think? She said she wouldn't tell anyone though. No one in the office, like she was ashamed."

"Or scared," Ginny said. "Come people aren't as brave as you are, Harry. I have an idea though. Just to be sure of her feelings. I'll go with you to that Christmas Gala. If she cares, she'll be jealous. She'll prove it."

Harry wondered for a moment if Ginny was just being kind. But he pushed the thought from his mind.

"Yeah," he said. "Sounds great. I'll pick you up."

Ginny nodded, grinned, and then patted Harry's shoulder. She left with a smile on her face.

That night, when she left the Ministry, Gigi was scowling. But when she arrived at her destination, she was crying. She crossed the lawn to the tidy house and knocked on the front door.

"Gigi," Hermione said, sounding shocked. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry to just show up at your house," Gigi said, wiping her eyes. "But I need help. It's about Harry. I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Come in," Hermione said, opening the door a little wider.


	15. Chapter 15

Gigi was a woman with a plan. She and Hermione, possibly the most ambitious, organized, logical pair in England, had devised a plan to win Harry back. It all came down to the execution of their plan, which Gigi assured Hermione would be no trouble at all.

After Hermione had calmed Gigi down when Gigi arrived at her home, sobbing and whimpering, Hermione began to talk sense into her head. She had handed Gigi a strong cup of tea, tissues, and tried to figure out what had happened.

"He thinks you don't love him?" Hermione asked as she poured boiling water into her own teacup. She sat down at her kitchen table next to Gigi, who was slumped over, her hair in her eyes. Hermione rubbed the top of her hand consolingly.

"Yes," Gigi said, hiccupping. Her eyes were bloodshot. "I mean, I love him. I've told him. But I'm tentative about showing it, and that's why he broke it off."

"Hmm," Hermione mused, taking a small sip of her tea. When she replaced it in the saucer, she turned to Gigi and asked, straight-out: "Is really comes down to living without him, or what other people think."

"But-" Gigi began, but Hermione interrupted.

"Listen, I'm going to tell you something I haven't told a lot of people." Hermione stood up, walked out of the kitchen, and returned with a framed photograph in her hand. She placed it in front of Gigi. It was a picture from Hermione's wedding to Ron. Ron had his arm around Hermione's waist as she cut the wedding cake, and when she drew back to whisper something in his ear, Gigi saw Ron beam. "I married Ron a year ago. But we were friends first. Best friends. But I first realized I loved him when we were young, not even twelve years old. I just…I had this feeling. But I smothered it, because we were best friends. We bickered a lot, but under all that, we both knew how we felt about each other." Hermione placed a hand on her stomach and winced a bit.

"Are you alright?" Gigi asked, staring at Hermione's protruding belly.

"Just kicking," Hermione said fondly. She cleared her throat and continued as if nothing had happened. "Anyway. I smothered those feelings because we were friends. I was scared that we wouldn't be friends anymore, if anything happened between us. And I was terrified of what others would think. Primarily Harry." Hermione smiled a bit. "I was lucky to have such understanding people in my life. I'm lucky for Ron. We're a perfect fit, though it might not always appear that way."

Gigi avoided Hermione's knowing, penetrating eyes and picked at her cuticles.

"Gigi." Hermione said gently. "If you're Harry's perfect fit, you can't let anything stand in the way. Not fear. It's a stupid thing, fear, and it's easily overcome." Hermione finished her tea, and scooted back a bit in her chair. She spread her arms wide. "I overcame fear. And I have everything I could ever want."

"Harry's all I want," Gigi admitted. She bit her lip. "I was scared for my job, but the thought of losing Harry…it kills me."

"Well then," Hermione replied frankly. "We have some work to do, don't we?"

"Depends on what kind of work you're talking about," Gigi countered.

"Well, let's see," Hermione said, thinking quickly. "That Gala is this week, isn't it?"

"Yes," Gigi replied. "But, little problem. I drunkenly accepted a date. And I'm sure Harry already has one. This redhead came to our office…" she trailed off and raised her eyebrows at Hermione.

"Ginny," Hermione confirmed, nodding. "I think I might know what she's doing. But I'll be sure to take care of that, alright?" 

"Isn't she…well, isn't she related to you?" Gigi remembered the picture in the front entryway of Ron and Hermione's house, the picture in which Harry and Ginny shared a shifty grin.

"She's Ron's sister, but not mine," Hermione said. "We're friends, yes. But first and foremost, I'm Harry's friend. And contrary to what he says, I know what's best for him."

"Well," Gigi replied, a smile crossing her face. She wiped the mascara tracks away from her eyes and leaned in towards Hermione in a conspiratorial manner. "We have to get started on this plan."

The Gala took place on Saturday evening. Harry spent most of the day at Ron and Hermione's, lazing about and chatting. Ron and Hermione were going to be in attendance tonight, and as far as Harry could tell, Ron wasn't pleased about going. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed interested in the event. Far more interested than Harry would've guessed she would've been.

"At least you have a choice, Ron," Harry said, cutting across Ron's complaints. "I work there. I have to go."

"Come on. You're Harry Potter. You're friends with Kinglsey. You don't have to go."

"He does if he wants to make a good impression," Hermione corrected, sitting down on the arm of Ron's chair. Ron stood up and ushered Hermione into it, smiling as he ran a hand across her pregnant stomach. "I don't think it will be bad at all. It should be nice. There's supposed to be a band."

"Yeah," Harry snorted. "A sixteen player orchestra"

Hermione shrugged. "There will be dancing, won't there? That will be fun."

Both Ron and Harry winced at this.

"I don't dance," they both chimed in unison.

"Well," Hermione snapped. "If you both want to be so negative…just think, Harry. You'll have a good time with Gigi."

Harry looked at his hands. He had not told Ron and Hermione about Gigi yet. He hadn't planned to, until he had moved on. When he looked back up, Hermione was piercing him with a gaze he knew all too well. But there was something else behind that look, something cunning. She was hiding something.

"Aren't you going with her?" Hermione asked, and Harry thought she sounded far too innocent.

"No," Harry said. Ron stared at him, his mouth open.

"Why not?" Ron dug his hand into a crystal bowl on their coffee table and popped a handful of almonds into his mouth.

"We broke up," Harry replied shortly.

"Sorry, Mate," Ron said gravely. Harry nodded. Hermione didn't say a word. Harry found this to be extremely odd, because Hermione ALWAYS had something to say, even when he didn't want her to.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" He asked Hermione. Hermione looked away from him, and unless he was mistaken, Harry thought she blushed a little. Finally, she spoke.

"I think that whatever happens, happens," she said. "But if it's meant to be, everything will fix itself."

Both Ron and Harry stared at her.

"What happened to 'there's nothing a spell can't fix'?" Ron asked in amazement, gaping at her. Hermione's eyes snapped. She stood up, her body posture bossy. It reminded Harry of how she acted at Hogwarts. He waited for her to start bickering with Ron, condemning them for not doing their homework, or announce she was off to the library.

"I'm going to go get ready for the Gala," she said haughtily. She stared at Harry, and raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you should too."

"Women," Ron muttered as she left the room. He shuddered and shook his head, as if he didn't even want to begin to understand what she was on about. Harry, however, hoped that Hermione's words were true. But he would leave that up to fate, or Gigi. He washed his hands clean of his feelings. He stood up, said good-bye to Ron, and apparated home, where he began to get ready.

Gigi's doorbell rang precisely at eight ten. She was standing upstairs in her room, putting finishing touches on her make-up, touches that really didn't need to be done. She had been ready for nearly thirty minutes, but had nervously paced back and forth, fidgeting with her appearance, waiting for Taylor to arrive. When the doorbell rang, she tucked a stray hair back, and picked up the skirt of her dress (./_), so she could run down the stairs more easily.

"Wow," Taylor said when she opened the door. "You look amazing, Gigi." His front teeth were sharper than most people's, and he looked as if he might salivate. Gigi was reminded of a wolf.

"Thank you," she said somewhat stiffly. Gigi grabbed a fur stole from her coat rack, slipped it on, and stepped out on her front step. The night was bitter cold, and the sky was a dark, unforgiving black. "It's freezing," she whispered as she locked her front door behind her. "Might we just apparate?" 

"Oh," Taylor murmured, looking slightly crestfallen. "I thought you might want to walk. It's beautiful tonight."

"It's also twenty degrees," Gigi pointed out. She smiled in a sheepish way. "I don't want to get caught in a snowstorm."

Taylor nodded. "You're right, of course. Smart as a whip." Gigi wrinkled her nose. She wasn't as smart as a whip, he was just stupid. Taylor offered Gigi his arm. Tentatively, she took a breath, and then grabbed onto his elbow. At once, the night disappeared, whisking them away from Gigi's house, and bringing them to their destination.

The ballroom at the Ministry was almost un-recognizable. Snow glittered as it fell from the ceiling, but disappeared as it reached a foot over someone's head. The usually blank walls were decorated with boughs of holly. A huge Christmas tree stood in the corner, towering thirty feet over the Ministry employees. An elegant, sixteen-player orchestra was perched on a crystal stage, playing a beautiful classical piece Gigi didn't recognize. White tablecloth tables were scattered here and there, with name cards and plates of food. At the center were white candles, surrounded by a wreath.

"May I take your coat?" A man with a handlebar mustache appeared before Gigi and Taylor, and held a hand out to Gigi.

"Oh, please," she said, shrugging off the stole. She handed it to the man, and then looked around anxiously. She could see Hermione, sitting at a table by herself, while Ron was in deep conversation with a badly scarred man who looked as if he could've been his older brother. Hermione caught Gigi's eye, and stood up and began to approach her. Gigi steeled herself. This is what they had planned. She stood on her tiptoes and peered into the crowd. There, close to the stage of musicians, was Harry. He stood with Ginny, who was pretty in a red dress. The two of them grasped champagne flutes in their hands, and chatted with a spacey-looking blonde who Gigi recognized as the herbologist, Luna Lovegood.

"Hello, Gigi," Hermione said, finally reaching them. She leaned in and kissed Gigi on both cheeks. "Don't worry about it," she whispered in Gigi's left ear, which was hidden from Taylor's view. "I've got it all covered." Hermione drew back and plastered a smile on her face. "You must be Taylor. Gigi's mentioned you."

"Hi," Taylor said, eagerly shaking Hermione's hand. He winked at Gigi. "So she's mentioned me, has she?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said, ignoring Gigi's frantic look. "She says you're a very good friend." Taylor's smile wiped off his face, but Hermione just beamed even more. "You haven't met my brother-in-law, have you?" Hermione steered Taylor away. "This is Percy Weasley." Gigi revolved on the spot, searching again for Harry. Luna had now departed, leaving Harry and Ginny alone. Ginny laughed at something Harry said, and Gigi felt her stomach constrict uncomfortably. Thankfully, at that moment, Ron and the man he was talking to called Ginny over. She patted Harry's arm and left him standing there.

Gigi watched as Harry took a sip of his champagne and looked around for a moment. She had to wait for the opportune moment. She bit her lip and looked back and forth, tapping her foot impatiently.

When Ginny had left Harry standing there, he felt awkward. He didn't want to be left alone at this damn party, since he had seen many people staring at him earlier. But then again, he wasn't so sure he wanted to be in Ginny's company either, since she had been flirting with him that evening.

"Harry!" Someone said, and he relaxed. Kinglsey Shackbolt was beckoning him into a small group of people. Harry placed his glass of champagne down on a nearby table, and strolled over to the group.

"Hey, Kingsley," he said, shaking his hand with a grin.

"You know some people here, I think," Kinglsey said in his slow, comforting voice. "Alania Prewett, from the Daily Prophet."

"Pleasure," Alania said with a seductive wave.

"Susan Bones and Robbie Gregorwitz, from the Department of Mysteries."

"Good to see you, Harry," Susan said with a smile. Robbie offered Harry a curt nod.

"And Draco Malfoy and his wife, Celia." Harry offered a small nod to the last couple, who nodded in return. Harry's old nemesis, Draco, had his arm around a very pretty blonde, who Harry recognized as a girl who had been in his grade at Hogwarts. Draco looked at the ground. He obviously felt as awkward as Harry felt.

"The Hogwarts crowd," Harry muttered, and there was some light laughter at that. Suddenly, he looked straight up, and there, walking towards him, was Gigi. She looked exquisite, so much so that Harry felt his breath get caught in his throat. Her dark hair was pinned up, and she was wearing a golden dress that made her skin sparkle in the light. She was walking towards Harry elegantly, yet, business-like. Even quickly. Like she had something on her mind that she just needed to get off. She squeezed between Malfoy's wife and Gregorwitz, and suddenly threw her arms around Harry's neck. She planted a firm kiss right on his lips.

Harry felt himself blink in shock. Susan let out a small sigh, and Celia whispered something to Draco.

"Sorry I'm so late," Gigi said, pulling away. She tucked her arm through Harry's, and pulled herself close to him. "What have I missed?"

Across the room, Harry could see Taylor, looking straight at them. His face was so red that he looked as if he had been sunburned seven days in a row. Harry looked down at Gigi, who was staring up at him, a smile on her face. Her eyes, however, told a different story. _I'm so sorry, _they said. Harry felt his heart nearly explode with pleasure.

"Nothing yet," he said, wrapping his arm around Gigi's waist. "Everyone, this is-"

"Gigi Meyers," Gigi said, waving to them all.

"My girlfriend," Harry finished. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kinglsey smirk.

"If you'll excuse me," the Minister said, bowing. He left the circle and went to meet up with Ron, Bill, and Ginny, who was staring daggers at Gigi.

"And if you'll excuse us," Harry said, taking Gigi's hand. He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the knuckles softly. He drew Gigi away. "So," he whispered in her ear, feeling his heart beat faster as he lead her away from the tables, and towards the floor where other couples were dancing. "What changed your mind?"

"Hermione," Gigi said simply. She placed her hands on Harry's shoulders, and looked into his eyes. "I am so so sorry. For everything."

"I know you are," Harry replied, placing his hands on her waist. He pulled Gigi closer, and they began to sway in time to the music. Gigi leaned her head onto his chest. "I think you proved that. Very courageous, by the way."

"I had to plan it out," Gigi admitted. "I was nervous."

"It was kind of hot," Harry murmured, and he felt Gigi smile into his shirt. She pulled back and straightened his tie.

"I like your suit," she said. "You're very handsome in a tux. Wear it more often."

"Bossy," Harry grinned. He ran a hand across Gigi's cheek and she closed her eyes. "I missed you."

"I missed you more," Gigi protested. When she opened her eyes, Harry leaned down and kissed her.

"Why don't we get out of here?" He asked. Gigi placed a hand on Harry's forehead and pushed back his hair, trying to get it to lay flat.

"Sure," she said softly, and smirked. "It's about damn time." 

Harry and Gigi wrapped their arms around each other's waists, and slowly walked out of the ballroom, stopping only to collect Gigi's stole. They didn't notice Taylor staring fiercely at them, nor did they notice when he kicked aside a chair as they left. It fell to the floor and the legs snapped off.

Harry and Gigi apparated into Harry's apartment, right into his bedroom. Gigi wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and fused her lips to his, shivering as Harry ran his hands down her neck, her shoulders, her arms. Harry slowly moved his hands to the back of Gigi's dress and undid the zipper, so the dress fell to the ground in a heap. Gigi moved her hands to the bottom of Harry's shirt, quickly pulling the buttons through the holes, stripping it off his shoulders. Harry grabbed Gigi's waist and pulled her more tightly against him, feeling her breasts collide against his chest. She moaned as Harry kissed down the length of her neck, and then lightly licked her collarbone. Gigi grabbed Harry's shoulders as they fell backwards onto Harry's bed, writhing in sexual ecstasy as she and Harry grabbed at each other as if they had been kept apart for years.

Taylor apparated into his home on the other side of town. He was drunk after pursuing the free bar, and his anger at Gigi surfaced as he stumbled inside his flat. It had been a shit night, he thought as he threw his jacket onto a ratty old armchair. He opened his fridge, took out a beer, and popped the cap off on the counter. He chugged the cool liquid, even though it dribbled down his chin and stained his shirt.

"Bitch," he whispered into the darkness of the room, remembering how Gigi had walked up to Harry and kissed him. He fumed. Just because it was Harry Potter. She hadn't even given him a chance. Taylor snorted, and threw his bottle at the wall. It shattered into a million pieces. Outside, a dog barked at the noise. All that time, he had been waiting, just to have it snagged from him. Drunkenly, Taylor stumbled down the hallway to his bedroom, muttering curses at Gigi and Harry under his breath. As he entered his room, he didn't notice that the closet doors stood ajar, and in the shadows of his clothes, stood a figure dressed in black. Taylor stripped off his clothes, threw them on the floor, and then slid into bed. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose, resisting shouting out some vulgar language as the thought of Gigi came to mind.

Suddenly, Taylor felt a set of hands close around his throat. At first, Taylor thought he was dreaming. His windpipe was closing off; this had to be a dream. But then, Taylor opened his eyes. Hovering above him was a masked person, their hands squeezing Taylor's throat. They leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Making friends with Gigi Meyers wasn't your strongest decision." The hands squeezed more tightly, and Taylor began to kick his legs. The person was stronger than him, and weighed a bit more too. In a panic, Taylor managed to whisper something.

"Wait. I'm not. I hate that bitch." The hands relented a bit, and Taylor felt the person pull back a little.

"You're dating her."

"I'm not," Taylor wheezed, and the hands began to squeeze his throat again. "I hate her. I hate her, and I hate Potter. I hope they burn in hell." At that, the hands flew off Taylor's throat. He sat up, coughing and massaging his throat.

"Well then," said the masked figure. "We have something in common."

Taylor let a wicked smile spread over his face.


	16. Chapter 16

In Gigi's dream, she was on a beach. She quite liked that idea, because the last time she had been to a warm beach was when she went to Florida when she was seven. Her father had gotten spectacularly drunk, and Gigi had to return home early. Her mother was, needless to say, disapproving. Gigi had never been to a beach since.

But in her dream, Gigi was on a white-sand beach. She was wearing a red bathing suit she had bought on a whim three years ago, and she was able to recline in a white-cloth chair. She wore a hat and its brim covered her face and neck, giving her the appearance of someone incognito. In her dream, Gigi stretched like a cat, enjoying the zing of the sun against her skin.

"Shall I get you another drink?" Gigi turned her head to the right the slightest bit. Lying in the chair next to her was Harry. He looked different, and Gigi realized he wasn't wearing glasses and his skin was tanner than usual. He held an empty glass in his hand, and at the bottom of the glass was a piece of lime.

"Yes, please," she purred. Harry leaned down to kiss her, his lips lingering over her lips. He left smiling. Gigi stood up from her chair and took off her hat. She placed it on the still-warm seat and dug her toes into the sand. Like a magnet attracted to metal, she began to move towards the ocean. The waves beckoned to her, their lapping movement hypnotic. She avoided the sandcastles collapsing into the surf, the sharp shells and pebbles that stuck up here and there. Finally, Gigi touched her toe into the water. It was warm, like a bath. In her dream, Gigi sighed, and she began to walk into the waves, feeling the water encompass her feet, her ankles, her calves.

It was only when she heard Harry call her name that Gigi opened her eyes. The water was no longer the serene blue it had been. It had become stormy, red, and violent. The ocean had turned into a steaming, brewing pot of blood. Gigi turned back towards the beach, but it was gone. There was a wall instead, blocking her from moving. She turned back towards the bloody water, trying anxiously to avoid contact with the liquid. The blood began to rise, moving up her body, consuming her legs, her abdomen, her shoulders, her neck, her lips, her nose, her eyes…

Gigi awoke gasping. She was sweating a bit; it had been a while since her last nightmare, and she didn't know how to react. She placed her head in her hands, and blinked a few times, trying to clear the image of the bloody ocean from her mind. She felt a hand run down her arm.

"What's wrong?" She had awoken Harry. He sat up slowly, and reached for his glasses, which had fallen to the floor earlier.

"Sorry to wake you," she replied, avoiding the question. Gigi shivered. "It's hot in here, don't you think?" 

Harry stared at her. "You're sweating. And it's not because of the heat. Something's wrong, I can see it in your face."

Gigi sighed. She fell back onto Harry's mattress and shoved another pillow under her head.

"Just a bad dream is all. I used to have them a lot when I was little. When I had a bad feeling about something, anything really, I would have nightmares." 

Harry was quiet for a moment. He settled down next to Gigi and pulled her into his arms.

"And your bad feeling is…?"

Gigi didn't know. She hadn't felt bad about anything that evening, given that she was with Harry once more. In fact, everything was perfect. Obviously something was bothering her, there was something bad in her subconscious, but Gigi was clueless as to what it was.

"I have no idea," she whispered into the darkness. "I'm so happy."

Harry kissed her neck, pausing to skim his cheek against her collarbone. He kissed his way across her chest, running his tongue against the soft skin. Distracted as she was by her nightmare, Gigi brought her lips to Harry's and kicked her right leg out, so she could hook it around Harry's waist. Harry framed Gigi's face in his hands.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" He told her. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"Not if you're around," Gigi supplied.

"Exactly," Harry murmured, and buried his face in the nape of her neck. The night after, Gigi was still bothered by her nightmare, so she slept at Harry's house again. On Monday, they got ready for work together.

The acted as one, as if they were married. Gigi showered first, and laid out Harry's toothbrush when she was done. When Gigi was doing her make-up, Harry made her coffee. When he brought it to her, he told her he thought she was more beautiful without make-up. They dressed in Harry's room, resisting the urge to stare at each other lustfully as they did so. They gathered up their briefcases, swapping papers at the last second, and then helping one another find their wand. By seven fifty-five, Gigi and Harry arrived at the Ministry, via Harry's fireplace.

"Ready?" Harry asked as they stepped out into the bustling hallway. "Face everyone?"

"Yeah," Gigi replied. She reached for Harry's hand and laced her fingers with him. She bit her lip and then said: "Oh shit. I…I forgot about something." Harry raised an eyebrow at her as they walked towards the lift. "Taylor," she explained, wrinkling her nose. "I skipped out on him at the Gala. I feel rather wicked about it."

"Don't worry," Harry murmured as the lift doors slid closed. He leaned in close to Gigi and whispered in her ear. His breath cooled the skin behind her ear, and Gigi shivered at the sensation. "We'll go easy on the PDA, for now."

Gigi laughed quietly and hit Harry on the shoulder. He grinned and pulled his hand away so he could wrap it around her waist. "Although, I must say, that dress you're wearing today is going to drive me absolutely mad." The lift doors opened to the Auror floor. Gigi blinked and then felt her stomach drop. Everyone in the office was there, standing so that they looked over their cubicles, staring at her and Harry. Then, the employees began to run at them. Terrified, Gigi moved in closer to Harry, who looked equally disturbed by the behavior of his employees.

"Harry," they cried, and Gigi saw their hands reach for him. They pulled him out of the lift, and Effy grabbed Gigi and pulled her out onto the floor too. Gigi saw that Effy had been crying; her face was blotchy and her eyes were red.

"There's been more murders," someone explained. Gigi turned to look at Harry, horrified, but someone had shoved a file into his hands, and he was looking intently at it. Gigi saw his face blanch as he skimmed the papers inside. The office waited with bated breath, awaiting their assignment.

"What is it?" Gigi asked, reading his expression. "What's wrong?" Harry shook his head and tucked the file under his arm. He didn't look at her. "Harry?" Gigi asked again softly, reaching out to him. Harry recoiled a little, and shifted his arm. Gigi stared at the file. Without a word, she reached out and snatched it. Gigi opened the front flap to see a gruesome photo.

Indeed, there had been another murder. The scene was of a small living room. The couch had been overturned, pillows were slit, and a lamp lay smashed on the floor. Two bodies lay facedown, pools of blood under their heads and stomachs. Gigi grabbed the bottom of the photo and lifted it up so she could read the description of the case.

The names jumped out at her. **Olivia and Peter. **_Olivia and Peter. _Her friends, Olivia and Peter. Gigi felt her hands curl into fists, and the folder was squashed a bit. She tried to remember the last time she had spoke to Olivia. It had been after the disastrous evening at that restaurant.

_Gigi had called Olivia to apologize. She knew that Olivia might not forgive her, and why should she? Gigi had always been too selfish for her own good. She was undeserving of the friendship Olivia offered. _

"_I'm sorry, Olivia," Gigi said when Olivia picked up the line. "I am terribly sorry."_

_Olivia was silent for a moment before she answered. "You could've just stuck through it. I was just trying to help you."_

_Gigi winced. "Maybe you shouldn't help me. I think I'm messed up beyond help."_

_Olivia had scoffed. "Everyone needs help sometimes, Gigi. Even you." Gigi was silent. "I forgive you," Olivia had continued. _

"_Thanks," Gigi said in a small voice. _

"_I'll call you some week to make dinner plans. But right now I have to go, Peter's got some Quidditch match with his friends and I promised I'd go." They said goodbye and hung up. They had never made plans for dinner. _

Gigi felt Harry slowly tug the file away from her. She hadn't realized she was crying until he reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Here," she heard Harry say as he handed the file to Effy. "Hold onto this." Harry took Gigi into his arms and led her away, shielding her from the plaintive stares of the office. He sat Gigi down in a chair in front of his desk and got her a glass of water. He stroked her hair as she slowly gulped it down, and held her as she cried. When Gigi curled up in her chair and became un-responsive, Harry went out into the office and called his employees over. He commanded that each and everyone go to the scene immediately, and he would follow up with magical law enforcement. It was only then that he realized Taylor was missing.

"Effy," Harry wondered out loud, stopping the secretary. "Where's Taylor? Why isn't he here today?"

"He called in sick this morning, sir," Effy replied before returning to her desk. Harry glanced back towards his office. Gigi was curled up in a ball in his desk chair. Her eyes were closed. She was asleep.

Harry felt his stomach begin to froth. Something here wasn't right. Though it was possible that Taylor was sick, it was also possible he was taking a sick day to avoid Harry and Gigi. But in his gut, Harry felt like this was not the case. He had learned to trust his instincts over the past few years, and he acted on them. Harry slowly slipped on over to Taylor's cubicle.

There were no pictures on the wall, just a calendar with a red circle around the date of the gala. Harry looked down at the desk. There were papers scattered everywhere, crime briefs, photos of the crimes, and paper work on the victims. Harry slowly eased open the top drawer to the desk. There were paper clips and rubber bands and a few quills. He opened the next drawer. A book of famous dark wizards, the Ministry's Book of Spells. He opened the third drawer to find more case files. Harry reached for the fourth drawer. He grasped the handle and pulled. It did not open.

"Alohamora," he said, pointing his wand at the handle. Still, the drawer would not open.

His instincts told him that in that drawer lay something sinister, something that could lead Harry to the truth, once and for all.

**Don't forget to review the story! It really helps me out!**


	17. Chapter 17

It seemed so weird that Christmas would come at a time like this. As Gigi packed up her suitcase for Boston, she could hardly imagine what the holidays would be like. She had no warmth in her heart, except what she felt like around Harry. Her friends were dead, her job was becoming ever more stressful, and it seemed like more murders occurred everyday.

Harry hadn't even thought about Christmas until someone at the office had mentioned the Holiday. Everyday was the same pattern. He would go to work, investigate whatever new murder file was laid on his desk. Harry had no leads, no evidence, and no hope. People were beginning to whisper; fear was creeping into their hearts. It was truly like Voldemort had risen again, and the uncertainty he had cast was once more taking it's grasp on the wizarding world. All Harry could do at the end of the day was hold onto Gigi, one of his last reasons for sanity. She fit to his body like a lock and a key, and Harry tried to memorize the way she felt against him, just incase anything ever happened to either of them. He hated himself for thinking that way, but he really had no hope.

On the other hand, Harry noticed that Taylor had returned to work. He had, indeed, seemed sick on his day back. His skin was slightly grey, and he had a terrible, croupy cough. He took to his new assignments with ease, joining the team in their investigations and helping out wherever he could. He was polite to Harry and Gigi, and kind to all the other employees. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that something was seriously wrong.

Gigi had planned on returning home on the twenty-second, so on the twenty-first, a Saturday, she went over to Harry's in the afternoon. She apparated onto the front step, and nearly slipped.

"Ouch," she muttered, her ankle twisting. Gigi bent down and rubbed her ankle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash. Gigi stood up and squinted into the distance. A man, or rather, someone, was standing on the sidewalk, staring at her. They were dressed all in black, and they held an un-naturally long wand in their hand. "Hello?" Gigi called out, her heart pounding. The figure began to step towards her. Gigi felt fear rise in her heart. Quickly, she pounded on the door to Harry's apartment, and then reached in her bag for her wand.

The figure shot a spell at her. Gigi ducked as the red light flew past her shoulder, and flattened herself on the step. She gasped a little, and then threw herself around the side of the railing.

"Stupefy," she shouted, directing her wand at the figure. The figure blocked the curse and shot one back at Gigi. This time, the caster had aimed to kill. A flash of green light hit the lantern over Gigi's head and it crumbled into ash. Gigi looked up at Harry's apartment. It seemed quiet. Perhaps Harry wasn't in. She panicked. Gigi leaned around the railing once more and shot more curses at the figure. He blocked them all, and moved even closer to her, walking so slowly it was as if he was making his way through a swamp.

Suddenly, there was a bursting sound, and then the door to Harry's apartment opened. Harry ran onto his steps, flourishing his wand. He waved it in the air, and a streak of silver light caught the attacker in the chest. He fell backwards onto the sidewalk and didn't move.

"Gigi," Harry whispered, bending down next to her. "Are you alright?"

"That's the second time you've saved my life," Gigi murmured back, staring straight ahead. Harry realized the symptoms of shock. He planted a kiss on her temple.

"Stay here a moment," he told her. Harry scrambled off the stairs and onto the sidewalk. He pointed his wand at the figure and flicked upwards. Thick ropes snapped around the body. Harry crouched down and peeled the mask of the attackers face.

It was a man he didn't know. Only to Harry, the person could've been a boy. He was hardly even twenty, maybe seventeen at the most. Harry pointed his wand at the boy's chest.

"Reenervate," he said quietly. At once, the boy's eyelids flickered open. One was blue, the other a dark grey. They were glazed over, as if he was blind. Harry took in a sharp breath. The boy was cursed. "What's your name?"

The boy did not answer. He simply looked skywards, his lips moving quickly, but no sound came out of his mouth. Harry waved a hand in front of the boy's eyes, but there was no flicker inside them.

"Here." Gigi was standing beside him, even though she was still shaking. In her hand, she clutched a small vial of clear liquid. Harry had a sudden flashback of his potions teacher threatening him with a flask of the same substance. "I've sent a patronus to the Minister. He should be here soon." Harry kissed her hand as he took the vial from her.

"Why do you have this?"

"I've been carrying it for months," Gigi confided. "Ever since these murders started. Just in case I was with you when you found the person who did it." She looked down at the boy and a fierce expression of hatred crossed her pretty features. "Fucking murderer!" She suddenly screamed, bearing down on the boy. Harry rose and grabbed her by the shoulders, restraining her. Gigi fought against his grip, kicking at the boy. Her foot managed to graze his neck, but left no bruise or mark.

"Gigi!" Harry cried, and at the sound of her name, she stopped fighting. He held her face in his hands and forced her to look into his eyes. "I know. I know how you're feeling. If any one does, it's me. But you…you've just got to give me some time to get this out of him. Calm yourself down, okay?"

"He murdered my friends," Gigi whispered, but curled her hand around Harry's arm, holding onto the fabric like a life preserver.

"I know," Harry said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her face in towards him, so she could cry into his neck. Then, there was a small _pop, _and Gigi and Harry broke apart. Kingsley had apparated onto the street, two of his advisors with him, along with a magical law enforcement officer.

"Harry, Gigi," Kingsley said, nodding to them. "What do we have here?"

"We were about to see, Minister," Harry said, kneeling back down. Gigi sniffled and turned away. Harry cracked open the vial of Veritruserum and poured some down the boy's throat. Immediately, he sputtered, and the glazed over look in his eyes disappeared.

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

"Darrin McBride," the boy said in a monotone, looking straight ahead.

Kingsley crouched next to Harry.

"How old are you, Darrin?"

"Eighteen."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was told this is where I could find Harry James Potter and Gigi Peyton Meyer. I came to kill them." Gigi let out an audible squeak and sank down on the sidewalk.

"Who told you this?"

"I don't know his name. He had a handbook filled with addresses."

"Darrin, have you killed anyone else before this?"

"Yes," Darrin said in his glacial, chilling tone. He began to tick off the names of every family that had been murdered in the past four months. Kingsley and Harry glanced at each other. _Good enough for me, _Kinglsey mouthed to Harry.

"Why did you do it?" Harry suddenly asked. He didn't need to ask, they already had a confession. But something didn't seem right about the boy, it was like he'd been programmed.

"The Dark Lord needs a clear path if he is to return." Everyone took in a sharp breath and looked to Harry. Harry glared down at Darrin.

"Voldemort is dead."

Darrin began to shudder and rocked his head back and forth. "The Dark Lord will return again and be stronger than ever before. Harry Potter must be eliminated. Harry Potter must be eliminated. Harry Potter must be eliminated. Harry Potter must be-" Kinglsey interrupted him by dragging Darrin to his feet. The magical law enforcement officer grabbed a hold of Darrin's shoulder.

"Take him to Azkaban," Kingsley instructed the officer. "Lock him up in maximum security. I'll be there in a few minutes to continue questioning." The officer nodded and apparated, taking Darrin along with him. "When did he appear?" Kinglsey asked Harry and Gigi.

"A few minutes ago," Gigi reported, and Harry placed an arm around her quavering shoulders. "Right over there." She pointed towards the place she had first seen him.

"Did he do anything?"

"He…he started walking towards me. I thought he looked suspicious, so I called out to him. That's when he cast a spell at me." Gigi shifted closer to Harry. "He aimed to kill."

Harry and Kingsley exchanged a glance. This hit close to home. This kid, Darrin, was aiming to kill Harry, and he planned on taking his supporters and loved ones down along the way.

"Did you notice anything unusual about him, at first?"

"He was wearing a mask," Gigi told Kingsley, and Harry felt her shake a little. "And…um…when Harry took off the mask, his eyes were glazed over. He looked like he'd been imperused."

"Gigi, will you excuse Harry and I for just one moment?" Gigi nodded, squeezed Harry's hand, and went to sit on his front steps. One of Kinglsey's advisors came forward with essence of dittany to cure the cuts on her hands, which she had received when she flattened on Harry's doorstep.

"Imperused?" Kinglsey asked Harry.

"Looked like it," Harry replied with a shrug. "He was distant, far off, unresponsive…like Gigi said, his eyes were all glazed over. Someone had cursed him."

Kinglsey was quiet for a moment. "I'll keep it in mind while I question him. However, we have a confession on our hands. I don't think we necessarily need to look any further into this."

Harry felt his gut twist. "But sir, something's off here. I don't know if he's telling the truth."

"You used veritruserum, did you not?" Kingsley questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but if he was cursed-"

"Whether he was cursed or not, he confessed, Harry. That's all we need for now." Kingsley clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Tell your girlfriend to set up a press conference for you. Announce the capture of the murderer that's been terrorizing our world for the last couple of months." And with that, Kingsley apparated. Harry sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and went to sit with Gigi. No one noticed the black-clad figure that stood on Harry's roof, watching the scene below.

After the press conference that Gigi had set up, Harry was, in his own right, a hero once more. It wasn't that he'd stopped, but three years later, people seemed to relax around Voldemort's death. But the capture of a notorious, dangerous wizard thrust Harry back into the spotlight, and this time, it brought Gigi fame too.

"Jesus," Gigi commented, pulling aside the curtains in her living room. Outside, reporters from Witch Weekly and The Daily Prophet were snapping pictures and yelling out questions, as if Gigi or Harry were about to answer them. "This is nuts."

Harry crossed the room and pulled the curtains closed. He wrapped his arms around Gigi's waist and buried his face in her neck. She raised a hand to tangle in his hair.

"I have a feeling this won't die down for weeks," Harry murmured, and Gigi could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. Then, Gigi got an idea.

"It won't die down here, but it will be non-existent in America."

"I suppose," Harry replied, confused. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Gigi turned around and threw her arms around Harry's neck. "Come home with me for the Holidays. Please."

"What?" Harry asked. "Are you barking?"

"Come on," Gigi pleaded. "My mum won't mind in the slightest, I swear it. We have plenty of room. Besides, I could really use the company."

Harry thought about it for a moment. He always spent Christmas at the Weasleys, cramped up in the Burrow with his best friends and basically, his second family. But then, couldn't the Weasleys wait one more day to see him? He knew Ron and Hermione would understand, even if Molly didn't.

"I just have one question," Harry asked. Gigi reached out and smoothed his hair back. He grinned devilishly at her. "Will we be able to share a bedroom?"

"I don't know," Gigi said teasingly, reaching for Harry's glasses. She slipped them off his face, folded them, and put them on the coffee table beside her. "But if we don't, we better take care of all that…desire now, shouldn't we?" Gigi smiled as she kissed Harry deeply.

On the other side of London, two men dressed in dark black robes sat at a round table. Their only light source came from a small lantern above their heads.

"So Potter got Darrin," one of them said slowly. The other nodded in reply. They both placed their hands on the table, their knuckles flexing impatiently. "No matter. He was young. Too young. Have you contacted the others?"

"Almost everyone is dead," the other man replied, and his voice was thick, as if there was something wrong with his throat. "Missing or dead. It's hard to find one person alive who is sympathetic to our case."

The other man lifted his eyebrows and stuck out his left arm. He flipped it, so the underbelly was right side up. On his forearm, his veins protruded in a most disgusting manner. He lightly pressed his fingers to them. Faintly, the other man could see an outline of a skull entwined with a snake.

"It won't be long now," the man said, removing his fingers from his arm. "Soon, we will complete our mission. But I think it's time you move onto your next step. We need to hit where it will hurt."

"Yes," the other man agreed. "I'll do it on Christmas. Potter won't be feeling so jolly after all."


	18. Chapter 18

Alexandra Violet Desplat, formerly Alexandra Violet Meyer, lived in a large house at number fourteen Springfield Court. When Harry and Gigi apparated onto the walkway of her mother's home, Harry was struck by an odd case of déjà vu. It was like he had entered the Dursley's home all over again. The outside of the home was extremely tidy, with small lights and flowerbeds bordering the brick walkway. Hedges lined the front of the house, bordering the bottom of the windows. Through the frosty window, Harry could see flowery wallpaper, a small couch, and polished wood furniture. He had a sudden memory of his aunt Petunia, screaming at him to polish the floors.

"You alright?" Gigi asked, looking intently at Harry.

"Fine," he responded, reaching out to squeeze her hand. He grasped his suitcase more tightly in his other hand. "You're sure it's okay that I'm here?"

"Harry." Gigi said quietly, looking up into his eyes. She brought a hand to the side of his face and cupped his jaw in her fingers. "Would you be here if it wasn't? I phoned my mother, she said it was fine. We have nothing to worry about back home. We are safe, it will be lovely, and I love you. Alright?"

"I never thought you would be calming me," Harry laughed. Gigi rolled her eyes, but Harry saw the corner of her mouth twitch upwards.

The door swung open to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man. He squinted into the night.

"Who's there?" he asked aloud, glancing in Harry's and Gigi's direction. "Gigi, is that you?"

"It's me, Alan," Gigi called back. She grabbed Harry's hand and began to lead him up the walkway, avoiding the patches of ice. Gigi's stepfather let out a barking laugh and turned back inside. "Alexandra, they're here already." Harry heard a woman shout back, but Alan looked back at them, a wide smile on his face. "Hey, kiddo," he said to Gigi, hugging her tightly.

"It's good to see you," Gigi replied, releasing Harry's hand so she could pat her stepfather on the back. She pulled away, blushed, and gestured to Harry. "Alan, this is my boyfriend, Harry. Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter," Alan mused. "Sounds familiar." Harry smiled nervously and stuck out his hand to shake. He had never gone through something this nerve wracking before. He had never dated Cho long enough to meet her parents, and he had known Ginny's for years before they started to date. Besides, her parents hadn't even known they were dating until after Harry left Hogwarts, and they broke up a few months later.

"It's good to meet you, Sir," Harry said as Alan shook his hand firmly. "I've heard a lot about you." Gigi colored even more, because Harry was lying. She hadn't told him much about her family, at all.

"Gigi," a woman's voice suddenly shrieked. A tall, thin, aging woman came to the door. She resembled Gigi in almost every way but two; her hair was a light blonde, not brown, and her eyes were blue, not brown. Gigi's mother pulled her into a tight hug and stroked her hair. "It's been too long, sweetheart," Harry heard her whisper in Gigi's ear. "Twice a year is really not enough."

"I know, mom," Gigi replied, grasping her mother's hand as she pulled away. Harry drummed his fingers inside his pocket. Gigi beamed and turned around to Harry. "This is Harry."

"Oh, Harry," Gigi's mother said with a big smile. She pulled Harry into a tight hug as well, and Harry was momentarily reminded of Molly Weasley. "It's so good to have you here, I wasn't sure you would be up for coming." She pulled back and patted Harry's shoulder lightly. "Well come in, you two. I have dinner ready, if you're hungry, and your room is all set up."

"Our room," Gigi repeated as her mother turned away. She looked back at Harry and winked suggestively.

"Oh that's right, sweetheart," her mother replied with a small laugh. "You didn't really think I was that dense, did you? We know full well how it works now a days."

"Mom!" Gigi protested, her face turning a wonderful shade of crimson. Harry had to muffle his laughter by pulling a bit of his scarf over his mouth. He lugged his suitcase into the front entry and looked around. Again, he was reminded of the Dursleys, but this home was much more welcoming than his aunt's home. The familiar scent of cleaning supplies was absent, and instead, the smell of freesias filled the air, even though it was December.

All of a sudden, a door from under the stairs creaked open. Harry nearly fell over with shock as a boy emerged from the cupboard. He was reminded strongly of himself as the boy cautiously looked out into the hall.

"Gabe!" Gigi exclaimed. She sunk down the slightest bit and opened her arms. Gigi's younger brother's eyes lit up and he ran into his sister's arms. Over her shoulder, he looked up at Harry apprehensively, examining this stranger who had arrived with his older sister. "Gracious, you've gotten big," Gigi commented, releasing her brother and standing up. "What were you doing under there?" She pointed towards the cupboard under the stairs, and Harry couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

"I've got a collection under there," Gabe explained. He looked away from Harry's gaze and ducked behind his mother.

"Oh, I think someone's shy," his mother said, smiling at Harry and Gigi as her son wrapped his arms around her middle. "Sweetheart, I'm sure they would love to see your chess pieces."

"You know what?" Harry said to Gabe, using an exceptionally kind tone of voice. "My best friend, Ron, he collects Chess pieces too. All kinds. He has a pair that shoots the player with water when you lose the game."

"Really?" Gabe asked quietly, brightening. He stepped out from behind his mother. "You want to see my chess pieces?"

"Oh," Harry replied, holding a hand to his heart. "I would be honored." He turned to Gigi, who was watching the pair of them with a rather stunned expression on her face. She smiled so widely at Harry it looked like her teeth might break. _I love you, _she mouthed to him, and Harry nodded just the slightest bit. "Gige, would you mind taking care of my suitcase for me?"

Gigi took the suitcase out of Harry's grasp and grazed her lips against his cheek. "You're sweet."

Alexandra smiled as Gabe led Harry down the hallway to the cabinet. Harry crouched down as Gabe ducked inside, and then began to hand him various chess pieces. "I'll show you upstairs," she told Gigi. "Alan, open some wine, would you?"

Alexandra began to walk up the stairs, and Gigi followed, huffing slightly as she dragged the two suitcases along.

"You know, mom. It's not like I haven't been here before. You've only lived here, what, five years? I think I could find my own room."

Her mother didn't answer her until they reached the top of the staircase. "I needed to talk to you in private." Gigi frowned, but nodded. Her mother crossed the stairwell and opened an oak door to the first guest room. Gigi rolled her suitcase inside and placed it on the floor next to the large, oak-framed bed. Her mother quietly closed the door behind them.

"What's with the secrecy?"

Gigi's mother just clasped her hands and looked frankly at her daughter. She began to wring her hands, and then took a seat in the rocking chair that sat across from the bed. Gigi recognized it as the one that used to sit in her bedroom as a child.

"This boy," Alexandra began. "Harry. Is he good to you?"

"Of course," Gigi replied, confused with where her mother was taking this conversation. She sat down on the edge of the bed and traced the outline of one of the flowers on the duvet. "I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't."

"He seems nice," Alexandra said, but to Gigi, it sounded as if her tone was almost dismissive.

"What's that tone for?" Gigi crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at her mother. "You don't even know him."

Alexandra sighed and rolled her eyes. "Really, Gigi. There's no need to be so dramatic."

Gigi raised a single eyebrow, and her mother's resolve crumbled.

"Do you love him?"

Gigi rocked forward a bit and laced her fingers together. "With all my heart. I think…" she hesitated in telling her mother this, because she hardly had the courage to admit it to herself. "I think he might be the one. The one for me."

"Really?" Her mother's lips tightened a bit. "What about Ryan? I thought he was the one."

Gigi groaned and looked to the ceiling. "Really, mom? Ryan and I are done. That was over years ago."

"A year ago," Alexandra corrected. "It's not that I like Ryan more than Harry. I don't know Harry, sweetheart. I just…you and Ryan were together so long that this will take some getting used to. But I trust you." Her voice quavered a bit at the end of her statement.

"What aren't you telling me?" Gigi asked, but in her heart, she knew. Her mother was keeping something important from her, something concerning Ryan.

Alexandra looked towards the window to avoid eye contact with her daughter. "Ryan's moved in close by."

"How close?" Gigi felt her hackles rise.

"A few houses down," her mother replied, looking at the floor. Gigi felt like punching a wall, but managed to contain her anger by kicking off her shoes and ripping her hat off her head. She smoothed down her hair and took a deep breath.

"Well as long as I don't have to see him…" Gigi trailed off. "You haven't invited him over or anything, have you?"

"God, no." Alexandra shook her head violently. "I just needed to tell you, in case you spot him while you're here. I wanted to warn you."

"Okay," Gigi said quietly, still digesting the news. She got to her feet and shuffled a bit on the carpet, feeling the friction between her socks and the shag carpet. Finally, she looked back at her mother. "I'm starving. Let's eat."

Harry sat next to Gigi at the dinner table. He could tell something was off, that she wasn't herself, but she seemed to brave through it. She laughed at her stepfather's jokes, complimented her mother's chicken, and twined her fingers with Harry's.

"So, Harry," Alan said once he had finished his chicken breast. "What do you do?"

Harry glanced at Gigi, who nodded.

"Alan knows," Gigi told him. "By god, his own son is a wizard."

"Right," Harry said with a smile. Gabe grinned at Harry, and looked down at his plate. Gigi watched as his broccoli slowly disappeared without him ever lifting it to his mouth. He glanced up and caught her staring at him. Gigi winked and Gabe's smiled widened to reveal a few missing teeth. "I run the Auror department at the Ministry of Magic. We specialize in catching Dark Wizards."

"Now explain this to me," Alexandra said, leaning her elbows on the edge of the table. She looked to Gigi for guidance. "What would that be like here?"

"Probably a detective," Harry supplied, and Gigi nodded.

"That's right," Gigi agreed. "Aurors are like specialists in the Magical Law Enforcement. They basically are more trained and experienced. A bit more clever as well." The table laughed at that.

"Impressive," Alan murmured, placing his fork and knife on his plate. "I wish I could say the same for my job. I'm a surgeon."

"It's all about saving lives, isn't it?" Harry asked, and Alan smiled. Alan turned to Gigi and nodded.

"I like him," he said in his booming voice. For the first time that night, Harry felt completely at ease.

That night, as Harry and Gigi slipped into their warm, comfortable bed, Gigi leaned over and kissed Harry deeply. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"What was that for?" he asked as she pulled away. Gigi wriggled her toes underneath the sheets, and pressed them against Harry's leg.

"For doing such a good job tonight," she replied quietly. "I haven't brought anyone home in a very long time. Years, even. And you did brilliantly. I think my brother is quite taken with you. As is my stepfather."

"And your mother?" Harry asked. He nestled the side of his face into the top of Gigi's head. Gigi shrugged.

"She'll come around," she replied quietly. "She always does." Before Harry could ask what Gigi meant by that, she had turned off the light and turned over on her side. "Good night, love." Gigi pulled another pillow underneath her head, leaving Harry sitting up in the darkness, pondering her words.

The next morning, Harry awoke with a start. He looked around the unfamiliar room, until his eyes fell upon the person beside him. Gigi was still asleep. Her lips were parted a little, and her mouth was pursed like she had been about to kiss him. Her hair was untrimmed and long, it covered her forehead and fell down her neck, though her collarbone was visible. Her eyelids fluttered a little bit, as if her eyes were moving rapidly underneath. Harry couldn't help but reach out and stroke her jaw with the back of his hand, running his fingers against the velvety-skin there.

Gigi's eyes fluttered open as she felt a hand move against her jaw. It was comforting and gentle, and she melted into the palm. Harry was sitting above her, simply watching her quietly.

"Hi," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "What are you doing?"

"I love you," Harry replied. Gigi smiled at him, confused.

"I love you too," she responded instantly. Gigi rose up a bit so she could fuse her lips to Harry's. All of a sudden, she felt something wet land on her cheek. Gigi opened her eyes and leaned back. Harry's eyes were wet. He was crying, though he tried to hide it. "Harry," Gigi murmured, alarmed. "What…?"

"You know where I was three years ago, on this date?" Harry asked. He took Gigi's hand in his. "My parent's graves in Godric Hollow. I saw the house where Voldemort killed them. And on Christmas, every time, I wonder about my parents, and what it would be like if they were alive. Would we be celebrating Christmas together?" Harry bowed his head. The tears stopped falling as quickly as they had come. "It makes me realize how fleeting is. Even my time with you."

"Don't say that," Gigi answered fiercely. "Don't you dare scare me like that, Harry James Potter."

"I don't mean to scare you," Harry replied. Gigi immediately felt guilty and wrapped her arms around Harry, pulling him close to her. Harry rubbed her back, and then pulled away from Gigi. He kissed her palm, and then folded her fingers down over it, as if he was leaving his love there, for her to hold in the palm of her hand. "I want you to move in with me."

Gigi pulled back so she could see Harry's face. He was solemn, but his eyes were hopeful.

"Harry," she breathed. "Of course I will."

"I understand if you want to stay in your house," Harry said. "We could move there, or mine if you want."

"No," Gigi replied, shaking her head. "I like your house. It fits you. We'll stay there."

Harry smiled at her. He couldn't believe he was here, with her, this beautiful girl who loved him so much. He couldn't believe she agreed to move in with him, knowing how volatile he was, how dangerous the name Harry Potter really was.

"Let's take a walk," Harry suggested. The pair dressed, joined hands, and left their room. It was early morning when they opened the front door to Gigi's house. Snow covered the lawn and walkways in feet, and icicles had formed from the rafters.

"Careful," Gigi warned Harry. "There's probably a bunch of black ice here." She pulled her wand from her pocket and waved it through the air. The ice and snow in front of them melted. Harry and Gigi slowly began to walk down the path towards the street, when a large crunching sound startled them.

Two houses down, a man was shoveling snow off his driveway. He was tall, a head taller than Harry, and far more muscular. Gigi felt her stomach plunge. She didn't have to look any closer to know that Ryan was the one over there. At that moment, Ryan looked up from his work and looked straight at Gigi. She knew he saw her, and he knew she saw him. Ryan opened his mouth to call out to her, but at that moment, Harry came to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. For a moment, Gigi had forgotten he was there.

"Let's go," she urged Harry, and linked her arm in his. At the same time, they turned their backs on Ryan and began to walk down the street. Ryan watched them go. When they turned the corner on the next street, he heard Gigi laugh loudly at something that guy had said to her. Ryan threw his shovel down on the street and stormed inside his house. He slammed the door so hard that the wood cracked.

**Remember to review and share, please! **


	19. Chapter 19

Christmas eve at Gigi's mother's home wasn't quite what Harry had expected. He wasn't really sure what he had expected in the first place. He had thought maybe it would be like Aunt Petunia's celebrations, where she cleaned the house tirelessly, even though it would be full of ribbon and wrapping paper the next day. At the end of the day, she would make Vernon and Dudley dress up and she would serve a dinner Harry had labored over for hours. Harry had never been allowed to eat with them, because Aunt Petunia wanted dinner to be perfect.

Harry had also envisioned a Weasley-like holiday. Gigi's family seemed extremely close, so he had envisioned a less formal sequence of events. Maybe they would watch a Christmas movie on the telly, listen to Christmas carols, and drink peppermint tea until they all grew dozy and went to sleep.

Surprisingly, their celebration seemed to be a hybrid between the two different types of Christmas eves Harry had attended. While it was true that Gigi's mother had labored for quite a long time over a spectacular dinner, Gigi chipped in, while Alan, Gabe and Harry sat at the table, occasionally trying to sneak food from the kitchen and discussing Gabe's magical talents.

"Mum," Gigi began as her mother checked on the potatoes. "We don't need to make sauce. If you would just let me use my wand…"

"No," Alexandra replied quickly, pulling the potatoes out from the oven. "You need to learn how to make food the normal way, Gigi."

"Why?"

"In case…" Alexandra shook her head. "I'm being silly. You can't loose your magic, can you?"

"No," Gigi replied, trying to smother her laughter. She turned away and reached for a bowl.

"Fine," her mother sighed, and then pointed at the bowl. "However, if it's better than my sauce, you're never allowed in my kitchen again."

"Deal," Gigi said with a grin.

When Gigi emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron over her plain black dress, Harry thought she was the prettiest he had ever seen her. It wasn't easy to say, because she always looked beautiful. And perhaps it was a sexist thought as well, because he liked how white the apron was against the black velvet that clung to her curves. All Harry knew was in that moment, when she carried a bowl of steak and kidney pudding to the table, she was blissful and radiant. She was more beautiful than she had been at the gala, or when she was at work, or even after they had made love the first time.

Perhaps it was because she wasn't stressed at the moment. The fear that had been cast over the wizarding world was lifted, her job was relatively easy-going at the moment, and she had Harry all to herself.

Gigi sat down next to Harry at the table, untied her apron, and set it on the back of her chair. She tucked her hair behind her ear and fixed her small diamond earring. She glanced at Harry, who was staring at her, a half-smile on his face.

"What?" Gigi asked, tucking her napkin into her lap. Alexandra brought out the potatoes, a basket of bread, and salad. "You always look at me like you know something about me that I don't know."

"Well, do you know that you're beautiful?" Harry whispered. He wasn't trying to be smooth, he simply felt that way. Gigi blushed and rested her chin in her hand, so she could stare Harry down as her mother took a seat at the head of the table.

"You surprise me when you say things like that," Gigi murmured. Harry opened his mouth to ask precisely what she meant by that, but Alexandra began to speak.

"I think we should say grace." Alexandra folded her hands and set them on the edge of the table. "That is, unless anyone objects?" She looked hesitantly at Harry, and once again, he was struck by how much Gigi resembled her mother. Harry shook his head and clasped his hands together. Gigi bowed her head, but looked up at Gabe from under her eyelashes. Under the table, he kicked her leg, and she mocked wincing. He giggled, but fell silent under Alan's stern look.

Alexandra closed her eyes. "Dear God, we thank you for this lovely meal (which Gigi and I so lovingly made…), the roof over our heads, the clothes on our backs, the company we keep. The holidays truly are a time of love."

Under the table, Gigi placed her foot on top of Harry's. Gigi's mother looked expectantly at Gigi, who cleared her throat, and closed her own eyes.

"I'd like to give thanks for bringing be back home safely. Thank you for the speedy and protective delivery, God."

Harry looked at Gigi, who widened her eyes, as if to say: _Go on. One prayer. It won't hurt. _Harry cleared his throat.

"I would just like to express how lucky we all are to have love in our lives. It's incredible how powerful love it, how it can make or break someone. I think, in a season like this, there is so much love in the air that it's almost impossible not to feel it." Alexandria smiled at Harry, and then turned her head to look at her husband, who began to recite a passage from the bible.

"That was lovely," Gigi whispered to Harry. She pecked him on the cheek. Harry took her hand in his, laced their fingers together, and brought them to the table top, plunking down their hands in between their plates.

After dinner, there was some eating of pie, and then a caroling group came to the door. Harry and Gigi watched as the muggles sang so purely. On their way out, Gigi raised her wand towards the sky. It seemed that overhead, the stars became a little brighter. As the family went back into the house after thanking the carolers, they walked on to the next lit-up house. The leader, a young pastor, knocked on the front door, a smile on his face.

However, his smile disappeared a few moments later. The door opened to reveal a scowling man.

"Can I help you?" Ryan growled, looking down at the pastor, who felt a ball of nerves settle in his stomach. Behind him, the group burst out into a round of "God Rest ye Merry Gentleman." The pastor grinned apologetically. Ryan took one look at Gigi's house. In the window, he could spot her. She was laughing as she talked to someone who wasn't visible through the glass. Slowly, the guy she had been with earlier emerged. He pulled her into his arms. Gigi laughed again, laid her hands on his chest, and kissed him. Ryan slammed the door shut in the Pastor's face.

Harry was sitting up in bed when Gigi entered their bedroom that night. She had taken a shower across the hall, and her hair was curly from the steam. Gigi pulled down the edge of her nightgown as she pulled her hair off her shoulders. With a lurch, Harry recognized it as the one she bought in Hogsmeade.

"What did you mean at dinner?" He asked her as Gigi closed the door behind her. Harry jumped out from under the covers. He straightened his glasses. "What I say surprises you?"

"Well," Gigi said slowly, picking up a bottle of lotion off the guest dresser. "You're Harry Potter. I keep expecting things polished to come out of your mouth. You know, given your status as an international hero and all that. But sometimes, you're just so damn raw. You just blurt out whatever you feel, without much regard to how it might make the other person feel." Gigi bit her lip as she rubbed lotion onto her elbow. "Your words have a strong impact. But that's what I meant. You're real."

Harry walked up to her, took the bottle of lotion out of her hands, and set it down on the dresser. He grabbed Gigi's shoulders and brought her mouth up to his. Gigi closed her eyes, feeling her joints melt, and then slipped her arms up, cupping Harry's jaw in her hands. Harry simply responded by scooping an arm under her leg and lifting her easily off the ground. Gigi shrieked, and then laughed quietly as Harry carried her into bed.

"Wait a moment," Harry said as Gigi leaned in to kiss him again. "I have something for you. I didn't want to give it to you in front of your family."

"A Christmas present?" Gigi asked curiously, folding her hands, and then sitting cross-legged. Harry dug through his suitcase, and then brought out a small box, wrapped in glimmering silver paper and a red ribbon.

"Yeah." Harry handed it to her, and then sat down next to her on the bed. He brushed her hair off her neck and kissed the nape. "Merry Christmas, Gige." Gigi glanced at him, pursed her lips in amusement, and began to untie the ribbon.

"This is beautiful wrapping by the way," Gigi said, not looking up from the paper. "How long did it take Hermione to wrap it?"

"About ten seconds," Harry admitted with a smile. "How could you tell?"

"Be serious," Gigi laughed, tapping his arm. "You drop your wand every few minutes. You're clumsy. Hermione's far better at this kind of thing, I'm sure."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I never really realized I did that."

"Yeah, well," Gigi said, setting aside the wrapping paper. "I have an eye for the little things." She pulled off the top to the box, and then set it down next to her. Gigi's eyes widened, as she reached into the box. She scooped the items into her palm, and then flattened it, so they sparkled in the soft glow of the beside lamp.

In her palm lay two keys. One, a solid gold key that looked like a regular old house key. The other was a beautiful, silver key, inlaid with pearls and strung on a thin silver chain. It was like an skeleton key, simple and quaint. Gigi immediately placed the box down next to her, and then threw her arms around Harry's neck.

"Let me explain," Harry began, patting her on the back. "The gold one, that's your actual house key. I made you a copy today. While you can always use your wand to get in the house, I liked the symbolism of giving you a physical key. And this…" Harry quietly pulled the necklace from the box and held it up in front of Gigi's eyes. The silver glimmered. "This was my mother's. I went into Gringott's a while back, in September, to get something out of my vault. I noticed a box I hadn't seen before, and inside was this necklace. There was a note in my mother's handwriting. According to her, it was my great-grandmother's. She planned on giving it to a daughter if she ever had one. But I think you're the closest she'll ever get." Harry leaned forward and clasped the necklace around Gigi's neck. When he moved back into his spot, he noticed Gigi was choked up.

Her fingers fluttered to the charm around her neck, and Gigi slowly ran her fingertips over the pearls. His _great-grandmother's._ _Giving it to a daughter…you're the closest she'll ever get. _Gigi felt tears spring into her eyes. She wasn't deserving of this, not at all.

"What is it?" Harry asked anxiously, cradling her face. Gigi wanted to tell him she couldn't take the necklace. It was important to his family, something she wasn't a part of. Gigi remembered how badly she had treated Harry in the past and felt like slapping herself. Instead, she contented herself by looking into his eyes and breathing in deeply. She sniffled and wiped her tears away. He wanted her to have this. It meant a lot to him. She couldn't refuse that.

"It's sweet," Gigi murmured. She tucked her face into his neck. "Thank you, Harry. I love it. I love you."

Slowly, she removed the clasp, laid the necklace carefully on her nightstand, and leaned over to kiss Harry. He wrapped her arms around her, pulled her down on top of him, and they fell asleep like that, Gigi's head on Harry's chest.

The next morning, Gigi awoke to the sound of breathing. Not hers, or Harry's but a laborious breathing coming from the end of their bed. Immediately, she opened her eyes, startled and scared by this sound. But then, she saw Gabe, standing at the end of the bed, his eyes squinted at them. When Gigi awoke, his eyes widened and a huge smile crossed his face.

"You're up!" He squealed. "It's Christmas. Come on Gigi. Wake Harry!" And he ran from the room, yelling to Alexandra and Alan to get up as well. Gigi and Harry slowly pulled on robes over their pajamas, and then stumbled downstairs, where a rather stunned Alexandra handed them cups of coffee.

"Merry Christmas, dear," Alexandra said, pecking Gigi's cheek. She smiled at Harry and squeezed his arm.

"Mom. Mom. Mom. Can I open a present?" Gabe was absolutely bouncing on his toes around the Christmas tree, nearly knocking it over in the process.

"Oh, go get your stocking," Alexandra sighed. "And wait to open gifts until your father gets down."

"Oh, why…" Gabe began to moan, as Gigi sat next to Harry on the sofa. She had just taken a sip of the steaming java blend when there was a small tapping noise. Gigi looked at Harry, who was staring into his cup. She looked at Gabe and her mother, still arguing over opening gifts.

"Harry?" Gigi asked. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Harry asked. And then, the tapping came again. This time, Harry heard it. He glanced at the windows, but there was nothing outside. All of a sudden, a letter came shooting out of the fireplace. The envelope landed in Harry's lap. Gigi heard the hoot of an owl as it took flight.

Harry put his coffee mug on a coaster and picked up the envelope. It was marked with the Ministry of Magic symbol. What could be so important on Christmas day? He slid a finger under the flap and opened it. He reached inside, grabbed the parchment, and smoothed it open. He pushed his glasses up his nose and read. The letter was in scribbled, frantic handwriting that he recognized as Effy's.

_Harry, you need to get back here NOW. Your friends, Hermione and Ron, well, their house was broken into last night. They managed to fight off the intruder, but Ron's in St. Mungo's with a bad injury. We think it's the murderer. Either there's more than one, or Darrin was never the murderer now. Hermione and Ron told me not to bother you, but I know you'll be angry if you didn't find out right away. Also, there's reporters all over the place, and Gigi needs to give a statement for the office._

"Shit," Harry cursed under his breath. He handed the letter to Gigi and ran a shaky hand over his head.

"Well," Gigi said, standing up once she was done reading it. "It's been a pleasurable visit, mom. But there's some work things I need to attend to." She threw the letter in her mother's lap, and Harry trotted up the stairs to collect their things.

"You can't go back," her mother said, clearly disappointed. But as she read the letter, Gigi saw her eyes soften with understanding.

"I'll come in a month," Gigi promised. She hugged her mother, and kissed her brother. Harry appeared with their bags, and said goodbye. Alexandra walked them to the front door, watched them step outside, and then apparate.


	20. Chapter 20

Originally, Harry wanted to send Gigi right home. That is, to her home. He wondered if seeing the scene surrounding Ron and Hermione's would be too much for her, especially after her own home was invaded and terrorized. But when he was about to suggest this to her as they walked outside of her mother's home, Gigi suddenly looked at him with a steely glare.

"I know what you're about to say, and the answer is no." She bit her bottom lip. "We're going together. We're a team now, you and me." Harry's mother's necklace sparkled as it lay in between her collarbones. Harry nodded, and held his arm out to Gigi. She gripped her suitcase a bit tighter and reached out to lay a hand on Harry's arm.

As soon as they apparated, a door on the street opened. Ryan stepped out of his house, staring at the spot where they had vanished. In his hand was a bouquet of red roses. When he saw Gigi disappear, he threw them into the snow. The petals were ripped from the flowers, staining the snow like drops of blood.

When Harry and Gigi arrived at Ron and Hermione's house, it was obvious a break-in had taken place. The glass in the door was shattered. One of the windows in the upstairs was missing completely. One of Hermione's wind chimes lay in a mangled heap on the front lawn. The shells were split open. The neatly trimmed hedges were in a state of disarray; branches were jumbled and scattered all over the lawn. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the front steps, his arm around her as the Auror team and Magical Law enforcement began conducting investigations.

Gigi promptly dropped her suitcase next to the mailbox, walked across the lawn, and sunk down next to Hermione. Harry could see Hermione crying a little into a tissue, and Ron was rubbing her shoulder. Gigi took one of Hermione's hands in hers, and began to talk her down.

"Harry!" Atkins, one of the Aurors from the office waved to him. Harry walked across the lawn to meet him next to the mangled bushes. "I'm sorry you had to come back so soon."

"Just tell me what's going on," Harry demanded, glancing back at Ron and Hermione. Hermione had thrown her arms around Ron's shoulders and had buried her face into his collar. Ron met Harry's eyes over Hermione's head, and his blue eyes screamed with fear and anxiety.

"We wouldn't have called you back…but we know it's him."

Harry's stomach dropped. Deep down, he knew that he had been expecting this. Darrin had never been the actual killer, he had felt that. Still, the words set a stone sinking in his gut.

"You have evidence, then?" Harry began to walk towards the front door, Atkins trailing behind. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as he passed and squeezed it gently, and then patted Ron on the shoulder.

"Mostly testimony from the Weasleys," Atkins replied. But then, he drew a clear, plastic bag from the breast pocket of his jacket. He swallowed, and Harry saw his Adam's apple bob a little in his throat. "There was this." Harry reached out and snatched the bag from his grip.

The parchment was yellowed, and it had obviously been crumpled and smoothed out many times, due to the ripples of the edges. The words on the page were written in blocky, all capital letters in black ink.

**WHAT DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND, POTTER? YOU TRY TO STOP ME, AND I WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO KILL YOU. I'LL DO IT SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY, BY KILLING THE ONES YOU LOVE BEFORE YOU, SO YOU CAN SEE THE REPERCUSIONS OF YOUR ACTIONS. YOUR BEST FRIENDS, YOUR FIRST FRIENDS, WILL BE YOUR FIRST VICTIMS. **

Harry's hands shook as he glanced back at the door. Ron and Hermione were still sitting on the steps, a blanket wrapped around them. Gigi was talking animatedly to them, no doubt trying to figure out exactly what happened.

"Where did you find this?"

"In the bedroom," Atkins mumbled. "At the edge of the bed. I don't think he expected them to put up such a fight."

"His first mistake," Harry muttered, remembering Hermione's temper. "Alright. Send this back to the office while I talk to Hermione and Ron." Atkins turned to go, but Harry suddenly threw an arm out, catching him in the chest. Atkins sputtered, catching his breath, and Harry glanced around at the officers working the scene. "Where's Taylor?"

"Taylor?" Atkins repeated, looking confused.

"Taylor. Shorter, stocky, blonde hair, terrible attitude…"

"Oh oh oh," Atkins bumbled. "Sick. Has been for a few days now. I think Effy was going to stop by his house. She wanted to see how he was doing."

Harry felt his stomach knot up further, like live snakes were moving inside him. He raised his wand in the air, and his patronus shot out of the end. The stag paused in the entryway as the entire force trained their eyes upon it.

"Find her," Harry whispered to the stag. The stag turned around and bounded out the window and away into the night. Slowly, people began to talk and went back to picking up evidence bags as Harry creaked open the door.

"…there's spells we can put in place-" Gigi was saying to Hermione. When she looked up and saw Harry, she stopped speaking.

Gigi felt shattered. It had been one thing to know that her own house had been broken into. It hadn't been random, that was for sure, but this time, things were different. Whoever was doing this, for whatever mad reason, had fixated on Harry. They were focusing on hurting the people in his life. First Gigi, now his best friends. Gigi didn't feel scared for herself, and she was actually having a hard time comforting Ron and Hermione. All she could think of was Harry, how hard he was taking this. He would blame himself for this, for the scar on his forehead, for the power he represented.

As Harry stepped out onto Ron and Hermione's doorstep, Gigi stopped talking to Hermione and Ron. She zeroed in on the dark circles under Harry's eyes. He suddenly looked much older, so much different than the happy man she had been with the night before. Harry pushed his glasses grimly up the bridge of his nose, and then crouched down next to Gigi. She wished she could offer him some comfort, but at this time, for once, she was at a loss for words.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. A tissue covered Hermione's face, and she shook her bushy haired head violently. Harry turned to Ron, who stared gravely at him. Ron took a jittery breath and then nodded. He began to speak in a slow, broken voice.

"We had just come home from Mum and Dad's place. 'Mione opened the door, and we went inside. I didn't notice anything weird at first, but I should have realized right then that the door to the hallway closet was open when it shouldn't have been. I brushed it off. I didn't think of it. Anyway, we went upstairs to unpack, and that's when we heard it." Ron paused as Hermione placed a hand on his arm. She curled her fingers around his wrist and placed a hand on her stomach, drawing the tissue away from her stricken face.

"Glass shattering," Hermione piped up. She looked nervously at Gigi, who nodded at her. Hermione cleared her throat, and Harry was reminded of the prim eleven year old, who had scolded Ron for not being able to pronounce Alohamora correctly. "Ron grabbed his wand out of his bag, and he told me to go hide behind the bed. Crouch down so I wouldn't get hurt, if it came to that. But when he left, I grabbed my wand out of my bag. I crept onto the stairs. I could see Ron and him dueling-"

"Sorry," Harry interrupted. "You know it's a guy? For sure?"

Hermione nodded. "It was his voice. It was scratchy and low. Not a female's. Anyway, he was dueling with Ron. And…and I started to come down the stairs. I just wanted to help. But Ron saw me, and he got distracted. The guy knocked him out."

Ron grimaced, and for the first time, Harry noticed a bruise on Ron's temple, like someone had pistol-whipped him. Hermione let out a small whimper and gently traced her fingers around the bruise.

"He turned around. He…he shouted my name. He knew me. He said that-" Hermione trailed off and turned away from Harry. She closed her mouth and her eyes and tucked her hands under her chin.

"It's okay, Hermione," Gigi spoke up. Harry watched as she reached out and grasped Hermione's hand. "Ron's okay. You're okay. You need to tell Harry, so he can make sure other people will be okay."

Hermione's eyes snapped open at that.

"But someone needs to make sure Harry's going to be okay!" She said in a shrill voice. Hermione looked at Harry with frantic eyes. "The guy, he said that he was doing this because of you. He said you took from him, and now he was going to take from you." Hermione burst into tears. Ron wrapped his arms around his wife, and glared at Gigi, as if it was her fault for Hermione's upset.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, patting her arm. He made to stand, but Hermione's hand shot out and grabbed his elbow.

"I made sure to wound him," Hermione gasped. "I…I had to use it. I used Sectumsempra. He bled on the carpet. I knew you could use that for evidence. Right? Can't you?"

Harry wanted to tell her that he could use it for evidence. Because, in the muggle world, he could have. He could have tested it for DNA and found the bastard. But in the magical world, where the weapon was a wand, and everyone carried a wand, using blood analysis would prove fruitless.

"Sure," Harry lied. Hermione turned away, looking a bit relived. Ron stared at Harry, seeing right through his lies. Harry blinked, trying to break the eye contact, which was plaguing him with guilt. "You guys can stay at my place tonight," he told Ron. "There's extra security in place there. Pack up what you need." Harry glanced at Gigi, who was staring up at him with big eyes. "Gigi can take you guys over. I know you've been there, but she's used to the security now. She has the same ones at her house, and we're going to install the measures here. Okay?"

Ron slowly helped Hermione to her feet. They headed inside their home, Hermione leaning into Ron. Gigi reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulders and forced him to look at her.

"Are you staying?" She asked. A crime scene photographer pushed past them and into the house, a huge camera cradled in her arms.

"I have to," Harry replied, gesturing to the house. "Look at this. I'm going to have so much work to do."

Gigi bit her lip. She reached out and smoothed a hair back from Harry's forehead. "It's not the job," she sighed. "You're doing this because it's Ron and Hermione."

"Of course," Harry hissed, lowering his voice so the other employees couldn't hear. "I did the same thing for you. I'm not stopping until I catch this guy. No one else can get hurt, Gigi."

Gigi quietly folded her arms around Harry's shoulders and hugged him tightly against her. She closed her eyes and ran a hand over the back of his jacket, memorizing the fabric and smell. She didn't want to let him go. Harry placed his hands on the small of her back, and then he let her go.

"You don't always have to be the hero, Harry." Gigi tucked her hair back behind her ears, and suddenly, Harry was struck by how small and innocent she looked in the moment.

"I didn't choose to be." Harry leaned in, kissed Gigi, and then without looking at her, walked back inside the house. Gigi watched as he resumed chatting with Atkins, who was packaging up shards of glass from the broken window. Hermione and Ron came back down the stairs, suitcases in hand.

"Ready?" Gigi asked Hermione gently as she stepped out onto the steps. Hermione nodded, and then clasped hands with Ron. The three of them crossed the lawn, towards the mailbox. Gigi picked up her own suitcase, and then extended a hand to Hermione, who grasped Gigi's hand in hers with a strong grip. Gigi looked back towards the house once more. Harry was visible through the window, bending over the carpet. Gigi waited for a split second, and then apparated.

Across the pond, Gigi's father was enjoying Christmas with his newest girlfriend. He had dumped Ivanka a while back. She had gotten boring, as most do. David wasn't looking for a serious, boring girlfriend. Maybe not even a girlfriend, but just a space-filler.

"More Champagne?" Lena the twenty-five year old model he met on the cruise he had taken a weeks back, leaned over David's champagne flute in a provocative manner. She was still wearing the lingerie he had given her as a present that morning.

"Please." David lifted his glass to catch the bubbly liquid, and then took a deep sip. Lena let out a low laugh, and headed into the kitchen. In that moment, David thought inexplicably of his daughter. He hadn't heard from her lately. She had called when he was on his cruise and left him a voicemail, but he hadn't called her back. She had sent a Christmas card too, earlier in the week, but he hadn't responded to that either.

David picked up the phone and dialed Gigi's number. There were four rings before the voicemail picked up.

_Hi, you've reached Gigi Meyer. I'm not home right now, but leave a message and I'll be sure to get back to you. _

"Hey Gige," David mumbled into the receiver. "Sorry I haven't responded to your call or card. I've been kind of busy."

"David!" Lena shouted from the kitchen. "I can't find the faucet."

David sighed and looked at his watch. Sometimes, he was tired of his life.

"I miss you kiddo. Give me a call when you get this, alright? Merry Christmas." David placed the phone back in the receiver, and then stood up to enter the kitchen. However, the doorbell rang as he did so. "One sec," he called out to Lena. David walked through the immense dining room, and into the entryway. Through the rippled glass of the door, he could make out a tall, broad-shouldered figure. David yanked open the door, and then dropped the handle. He stared.

"Ryan," he said in a short tone. It wasn't a greeting, more of a quiet exclamation of surprise.

"Hello, Sir." Ryan smiled at David. "I was hoping I could talk to you about Gigi."

David glanced back towards the dining room, hoping Lena would stay in the kitchen.

"Please," David replied, opening the door a little wider. "Come in."


	21. Chapter 21

Gigi entered a home that was not her own. She entered it with friends that she wasn't especially close to, with a key she had received only hours ago. She turned on a light switch she wasn't used to, and tripped on the corner of a leather chair that wasn't anything she would ever buy. She walked up the staircase and stepped on a squeaky step, which her own house didn't have. When she made sure Ron and Hermione were set up in the guest room, Gigi walked into a bedroom that wasn't her own. She dropped her suitcase on the floor, pulled off her sweat-sprinkled shirt, and sat down on the king-size bed. As Gigi lay down on her back, running her arms over the smooth grey comforter, she realized that she felt more at home here, at Harry's house, then she ever had in her own house.

On the nightstand on Harry's side of the bed was a picture of Gigi. She reached out and grabbed the frame and pulled it towards her. He had snapped it a few weeks ago, on a whim. She had been sitting in his living room, a mug of tea in one hand. He had said something that made her laugh, and he had snapped a picture of her, caught in mid-laugh. As she watched the picture, the picture-ized Gigi giggled, and then wiped a few rogue splashes of tea off her wrist. Gigi smiled and turned to the other side of the bed. On the other nightstand was a picture she had captured of the two of them in the same night. She was smiling brightly into the camera, and Harry had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to his chest. His smile was sheepish, embarrassed even.

Gigi wriggled out of her jeans, folded them, and put them on one of the leather chairs that graced the corner of the room. She reached for her shirt, folded that, and placed it on top of her pants. She sidled over to Harry's dresser, opened the top drawer, and pulled one of his black cotton shirts from within. She slid it over her head, loving the feel of the soft fabric as it brushed against her chest and stomach. Gigi lifted the collar to her nose and breathed in. It smelled of Harry, of mint and ink and detergent. Gigi wrapped her arms around herself and went to Harry's bed. She slowly removed the glittering necklace from around her neck and placed it on the nightstand next to her. She lay on her back and looked up at the skylight above her. The stars above glinted and winked at her, as if they were trying to tell her something. Gigi drifted off to sleep soon after, curled up on her side, clutching the comforter to her chest.

When Harry arrived home a few hours later, he was careful to close the door carefully behind him, so he wouldn't awake Ron or Hermione. He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. Harry pulled his duffel bag up on his shoulder and began to ascend the stairs. It had been a long day, and he was exhausted. He had helped Atkins take all the evidence back to the Ministry, and after that, he had sat in meetings with the Minister and other Aurors for hours, trying to analyze the handwriting of the note. Most of the aurors were out trying to find the perp, but Harry was almost dead on his feet, so he had been sent home. Harry crept past the guest bedroom and to the end of the hallway. Quietly, he pushed open the door to his bedroom.

He paused in the doorway and dropped his bag. Gigi was asleep on the bed, curled up in a ball. In her hand, she held the comforter to her, like it was a safety blanket. Harry leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. He pushed up his glasses. She stirred fretfully, her long legs kicking out in front of her. Then, Gigi yawned and sat up. She blinked at Harry.

"Hi," she whispered, sitting up on her knees. Harry walked over to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist. In all the chaos and fear, it never felt so good to hold onto something so real. Gigi tucked her chin in Harry's collarbone.

"I think I need to step down," Harry whispered in her ear. "Maybe it will stop. All the killings. He's after me, hurting me. But if I just go away…"

"It's not going to stop." Gigi pulled back from Harry. She sat down on the edge of the bed, and he sat down next to her. Gigi placed her feet in his lap. "Listen to me. As long as you exist, none of this will stop. He wants to break you. Breaking you breaks the wizarding world. As long as you are here-"

"As long as I'm here, people are going to be killed."

Gigi scooted closer to Harry and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. "As long as you're here, people still have reason to feel safe. You have this quality, whether you like it or not. You're a hero, and people see that. You're a leader, you're brave, and it scares people, but at the same time, it makes them feel protected."

Harry laced his fingers with Gigi's, and then leaned over and kissed her. Gigi ran a hand along Harry's back, letting her fingers play against his shoulder blades.

"I wish I could say you're wrong," Harry replied. He let out a short laugh. "Hermione once said I had this 'saving-people-thing.' Like it's ingrained in me."

"It is," Gigi pointed out. She smiled at him. "Whether it's from actual danger or from emotional danger. Remember when we first kissed?"

"Your birthday." Harry kissed each of her knuckles.

"Right. You saw how disappointed I was that no one had remembered. Even though I was cold and rude, you reached out. You saw someone in need, and you fixed it."

"Oh, I did, did I?" Harry rolled Gigi onto her back, and she laughed into his shoulder. Harry hovered above her. He leaned down to press his lips to her. There was nothing quite like Gigi. Her lips were the softest, her skin the smoothest, her eyes the brightest, her smile the prettiest. Harry loved the smell of her cucumber shampoo, he loved the way her collarbones jutted out, he loved the scar from her tattoo, and he loved the birthmark on her right hip that looked like a star. Harry realized that nothing in this world mattered to him as much as Gigi did, and he buried his face in her neck, kissing his way up to her mouth.

Gigi pulled away from Harry, bit her lip, and then tugged her shirt over her head. Harry reached for her, and she pulled him down onto the bed with her, slowly wrapping her legs around Harry's waist.

On the other side of town, Effy began the long walk up the flight of stairs that lead to Taylor's apartment. In one hand was a bag, and in the bag was a cup of hot soup and crackers. She had received an owl from Taylor earlier that week, calling in sick _again, _and Effy wanted to make sure nothing was seriously wrong.

The heel of her boot made a slight clacking noise as she went further up the stairs, and soon, Effy's labored breathing drowned out the hollow clack.

"Shit," she muttered to herself as she reached the eighth floor. Effy bent over and placed her hands on her knees, gulping in air. "I really need to work out more." Slowly, Effy straightened up, and then looked at the address in her hand. Flat number 840. It was almost right in front of her. The brassy numbers stood out on the pea-green door. Effy stumbled forward, the bag of soup in hand, and knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Perhaps he was sleeping, Effy thought. She rang the doorbell. Still, no answer came from within. Effy walked over to the window, but the drapes were drawn so no one could look in.

"Taylor?" Effy called, knocking on the door again. This time, she made sure to pound on the door harder than she had before. Again, when no answer came, she sighed. Effy placed the soup on the welcome mat, and then stood up, prepared to apparate. Suddenly, a noise startled her. Effy looked up to see something hurtling at her, and she had no time to move out of the way. She raised her hands as a defense, and opened her mouth to let out a shrill scream, but it was too late. The thing hit Effy so hard it sent her flying back. She hit her head on the edge of the stairway rail and crumpled to the floor, panting heavily. Blood began to seep from the crack in her forehead. The thing leaned over, her, sniffed, and then snickered. It apparated, leaving Effy lying there, helpless and weak.

Effy knew that this could very well be her last moments. It was becoming harder to breathe, and red began to obscure her eyes. Effy closed them, afraid to see what was out there, what was coming for her. Suddenly, a bright light burst through her eyelids. This was it. She was dying. Effy thought fleetingly of Lee. She had been in love with him years, and although they had gone out a few times, she had never told him. Her mouth was dry. She wished she had said something.

But then, as Effy allowed her eyes to peep open the slightest bit, she realized she wasn't dying at all. The opposite. Help had come for her; someone was going to save her. A stag patronus was standing before her, pawing at the ground. She recognized it at once. It was the most famous patronus in the world. Harry had sent it. Effy slowly reached into her pocket. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably as she drew out the wand. Her fingers wrapped around the familiar handle (willow), and she let out a sputtering gasp as she waved it through the air.

"Expecto Patronum," Effy coughed. A hummingbird burst from the end of Effy's wand, it's wings fluttering so fast that they were invisible. Effy struggled to sit up. "Get….help…" she choked. The hummingbird disappeared at once, flying off into the London night. Effy collapsed once more, her hair soaking in her own blood, as the sun began to rise over the skyline.

Harry awakened to the sound of a tapping at his window. He looked down to see Gigi next to him, cocooned in the comforter, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Harry picked up his glasses from the nightstand, and slowly disentangled himself. Gigi moaned and turned over, pressing her face into the down pillows. Harry reached for the shirt she had been wearing earlier, and pulled it on. He glanced towards the window to see a patronus, hovering outside. Quickly, he jumped off the bed and hurried over to the window, which he flung open. The hummingbird opened its mouth and a voice echoed into the room. Gigi shot up from the bed, looking around for the source of the noise.

"Help." The voice was Effy's but it was oddly choked and blocked, like her throat was clogged. "Help. Apartment 840. Skyline building. John-Johnson Boulevard." The voice faded, and immediately, the hummingbird burst into dust. Gigi hopped out of the bed and grabbed her jeans from the floor. Harry didn't even have time to protest, because she had pulled on her shirt faster than he had pulled on his pants. Gigi closed the window, locked it, and tucked her wand in her pocket.

"Say what you want," she warned Harry. "Be a hero, act that all out, but I'm coming with you. I know where she is anyway."

Harry nodded, and held his hand out to Gigi. She grabbed it, and the two of them apparated on the spot. Gigi gasped as the cold air hit them like a wave. She glanced around, and first, all she saw was an empty hallway, dotted with snowflakes. Suddenly, Harry's hand was missing in hers. She glanced around to see him, kneeling by a motionless figure. Gigi flung herself down next to Effy's body, pulled her wand out and began to mend the cut in her forehead. Harry siphoned the blood off the ground.

Effy let out a little groan, and both Harry and Gigi sighed, glad she was alive, glad she was able to respond. Effy's hand bobbed up and down, and Gigi realized Effy's wand was lying a few inched away. Gigi picked it up, ready to hand it to her, when she suddenly paused.

She remembered back in September, when Effy had handed her a directory of all the employees in the Auror office.

"It's my job to memorize them," Effy said with a smile. "All the addresses, that is. But I thought you would like a copy."

And Gigi had worked over time so she could memorize the addresses too, just in case. Gigi dropped Effy's wand and stood up, dazed.

"Taylor," Gigi breathed, looking at the closest apartment door.

"What?" Harry asked, looking up. "Is he here?"

"This is his apartment," Gigi suddenly exclaimed, running towards the door. "840. I memorized all the addresses."

Harry stood up as well, his heart pounding heavily. "Atkins told me Effy was going to check in on Taylor." Harry quickly grabbed Gigi's arm and yanked her back. He held out an arm in front of her chest.

"I know you say that you're ready to take all this on, but please, this once, be rational. Stay back."

"I was planning on it," Gigi squeaked back, sinking down next to Effy. She moved Effy's head into her lap and cradled her, rocking back and forth slightly. Harry moved forward, his wand out, and pointed it at the apartment door.

"Taylor?" Harry called out. When there was no answer, Harry blasted open the door with his wand. He didn't know what to expect. Maybe he expected to see Taylor, standing there with his wand directed at Harry's chest. Or maybe he thought Taylor would be lying on the couch, unconscious. But he certainly did not expect to see what he did next.

The flat was empty, completely, utterly devoid of anything. There were no moving boxes or anything, just a few hooks in the walls. It was eerily desolate. Harry walked over the threshold and into the next few rooms. They were all empty. He returned back to the kitchen. Suddenly, he paused. There was blood spatter on the linoleum, like Taylor had cut himself. There was a bloody handprint smeared down the front of the refrigerator. Apprehensively, Harry stepped over the blood and pulled open the fridge. On the top shelf, wrapped in a plastic bag, was a severed human head. The solemn, un-moving face of Gregory Goyle stared back at Harry.

Across the Atlantic, David Meyer sat at his computer. He had his wallet open in front of him and a visa card clutched in one hand. On the computer screen was the United Airlines homepage. With a few clicks and some fast typing, David had purchased a round-trip ticket to London. He had also purchased another ticket, but this one was a one-way ticket.

**A/N: Remember to review! Thanks everyone **


	22. Chapter 22

"We have set up a tip system. If you or anyone you know has any information relating to this case or the disappearance of Taylor Holmes, please send an owl to the Auror Office as quickly as possible." Harry swallowed and looked into the flashing cameras. He could feel the bags resting under his eyes, and his hair was sticking straight up. He sounded as tired and decrepit as he felt. "Remember, Holmes is considered not only to be a suspect in the recent murders, but he could also be a victim as well. Thank you for your cooperation."

Harry walked off the platform and out of the conference room. Gigi was waiting outside, a bottle of water in hand.

"You did well," she said, handing the bottle to him. Harry screwed off the cap and gulped down half the bottle.

"I was terrible in there," Harry replied, ignoring her comment. "Did you see the way they looked at me? The tone in which they asked questions? They think I'm a shit auror and I don't blame them."

"Harry, you aren't shit. And any other department head would be in the same situation. Face it, there's no evidence and no sign of Taylor. You can't prove anything, you can't catch anyone. You just have to wait."

"Yeah…well…" Harry quickly drank more of the water. "We might have a lead."

Gigi choked on her spit. "W-what? Since when?"

"After we took Effy into St. Mungo's," Harry told her. He tossed the water bottle into the nearest rubbish bin, and then gestured to Gigi. The two began to walk towards the lifts. "The letter they found at Ron and Hermione's? There were owl claw prints on the parchment. Belongs to a Highland Tawny. There's a breeding ground in Bristol. We think the person who wrote the letter is hiding out there. We found a Highland Tawney's tail feather at Taylor's apartment complex. That's no coincidence."

"You didn't mention it to the reporters," Gigi said quietly as more people joined them at the lifts. "Don't you think that could have helped? The Prophets going to hit stands tonight and people could see-"

"No," Harry interrupted, pulling open the gates. "We need to be discreet. If Taylor's hiding out there-"

"Or the murderer," Gigi pointed out.

Harry pulled a face and continued as the lift gates clanged shut and the lift began to move upwards. "You're right. We don't know for sure. Nothing's for sure. That's why we need to go there."

"We?" Gigi repeated as the lift opened to release a few employees on the Magical Catastrophes Floor.

"A few aurors," Harry clarified, running a hand over his hair, trying to get it to flatten.

Gigi felt a lump rise in her throat. A dull, prodding sensation of fear had lodged itself into the back of her mind.

"When do you leave?" Gigi asked, slipping her hand into Harry's. The lift doors opened and Harry lead her into the hallway. He tightened his grip on her hand. He had memorized the touch of Gigi's hand, the way her palm rubbed against his, and how her lifeline was so much longer than his…

"This afternoon," Harry replied quietly as they walked into the office. A group of aurors were crowded around Atkins's desk, listening to Harry's press conference on a small wireless. Harry and Gigi ignored them, walked into Harry's office, and Gigi closed the door behind them. Harry sighed heavily, let go of her hand, and collapsed into his desk chair.

"I'm worried for you," Gigi told Harry. She walked around his desk and perched herself on top of it. She reached out to stack a scattering of papers. Harry placed a hand on her knee. He hadn't noticed before, but she had a small bump there.

"What happened?" He asked, running his thumb over the bump.

Gigi looked away. Her face was suddenly more somber than it had a few minutes ago. This worried Harry greatly, seeing as she was miserable a few minutes ago.

"That's not important right now." Gigi leaned over and kissed Harry. He slipped a hand up to her neck, holding her lips up to his. When they broke away, he leaned his forehead against hers. Gigi could feel the lightening bolt scar pressed against her skin. Harry breathed over her lips, and Gigi thought she might cry. What if this was the last time she saw him? What if this was the last time she could kiss him, or run her fingers through his messy excuse for hair, or listen to his voice soothe her like no one else's could?

"I just…" Harry's voice broke a bit, and he had to clear his throat. "There are things I still don't know. And I need to know them. Before I leave…you are my anchor, Gigi. You keep me grounded, and you bring me back." Usually, Gigi would have slugged Harry for saying something like that, because she didn't need to be more scared than she already was.

However, Harry was risking his life to help others. In a way, wasn't Gigi saving him?

"When I was five, I was running down the stairs in my house. I was late for school. My shoelace was untied. I tripped over it and fell down a flight of stairs. I think my magic kicked in at that point, because I was perfectly fine. I stood up, and there wasn't a bruise on me. However, as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, which my mother had just mopped, I slipped, fell, and hit my knee on the table leg, resulting in this little knot."

Harry grinned. "I've seen you walk in shoes that have a five-inch heel and you haven't tripped."

"I was just a kid," Gigi laughed. For a moment, the office was bright. It was like the events of the past few days hadn't happened. They were just a normal couple, with no responsibilities, normal jobs, and normal lives. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Harry?" Atkins stuck his head inside. Harry could see three other aurors, Seraphina, Penn, and Etor were all waiting.

"Okay." Harry turned back to Gigi, who stared back at him with tired, frightened eyes. There was so much Gigi wanted to say, but in front of everyone, she wasn't sure she could without breaking down. She needed to be strong, not for herself, but for Harry.

"Good luck, Harry." Gigi stood up from the desk. Harry pushed back his chair and wrapped his arms around Gigi. She willed herself not to cry, but a few tears escaped her eyes anyway. They rolled down the back of Harry's linen work shirt, staining it with her mascara. Harry scrunched a hand in Gigi's glossy hair, and he wondered when he would see her next.

"Harry," Atkins said quietly. "We have to get going. You need to disguise yourself."

Harry pulled away. He couldn't bear to look at Gigi for a moment. He thought his heart might break if he did. He swept from the office, pulled his wand from his pocket, and began to disguise himself. Gigi slowly sat back down on his desk. She put her face in her hands and refused to look over her shoulder. Harry's face became more square, his hair blonde and curly, his skin became tanner, and his eyes became brown. The scar on his forehead disappeared. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, looked back at Gigi's silent, unmoving frame, and disapparated. The other aurors followed.

Gigi turned around, and her face was soaked with tears. She let out a small, racking sob, and placed her forehead on her knees. She had found the love of her life, and she might have just lost him. For the rest of the day, Gigi sat in Harry's office. She didn't work, she didn't move, she just sat on his desk, thinking of him, and hoping that he was all right. For the first time, Gigi let the world move around her.

When Harry arrived in the village of Oxford-upon-Gardens, a small wizarding village outside of Bristol, he had a sudden tingling feeling in his gut. It was a feeling he had felt often at Hogwarts, usually when he was onto something, when his gut feelings were kicking in.

"There's something here," Harry whispered to Atkins when they apparated into the village. "I can feel it in my gut." Seraphina anxiously glanced around the spot they were standing, to see if they had any unwanted company. When the coast seemed clear, the team split up. Seraphina was taking the west side of the village, Etor was taking the north side, Atkins was taking the east, and Harry took it upon himself to canvass the south side. Penn was headed to the owl breeding land, to see if there was any suspicious activity in the area.

It seemed like a small, relatively quiet town. Harry walked past charming house after charming house, all small and tutor style, with window boxes with flowers and chimneys that emitted small puffs of smoke. Harry trudged through the snow, avoiding the slush, and began to knock on doors.

"Hello, Ma'am/Sir," Harry would say, every time the door would open. He would pull a flyer from his briefcase, one emblazoned with large print proclaiming: **The Auror's Office Requires Your Help. **Underneath, the flyer would entail the leads the office had, and how a citizen could help notify the aurors.

It also asked if the residents if they had seen Taylor Holmes in the area. Harry would go onto ask them if they had seen any suspicious people or activity in the town.

Almost every house said no. But then, Harry encountered the last house on the block. It wasn't as nice as the other neat homes. The roof needed to be patched, and the shutters could have used a fresh coat of paint. Hesitantly, Harry strolled up to the door and knocked sharply. When the door finally swung open, Harry was surprised to see an old classmate standing in the doorway. It was Theodore Nott, a Slytherin that had been in his year. Harry had never really been acquainted with Nott. Though his father had been a Death Eater, the younger Nott had never gone out of his way to mess with Harry. Harry cleared his throat. He couldn't say he recognized Nott, because that would be defeating the whole idea of his disguise. He wore it to _hide _that he was Harry Potter. If the murderer truly was in the village, then Harry walking around in plain sight could end in chaos.

"Hello, Sir," Harry said, putting on a gruff voice. He held out a flyer to Nott, who looked down at it with disdain. "I'm an auror with the Ministry of Magic. I'm here today-"

"To catch that murdering psycho?" Nott's voice was thin and wavery. "Holmes?"

"Sir, we don't know that Holmes has any part in the murders for sure. While we want to question him…"

"He murdered a classmate of mine," Nott said furiously, and Harry remembered that Nott knew Goyle. He had probably even been a friend to him. Harry wordlessly handed Nott the flyer. It crumpled a bit in Nott's firm grasp. "I haven't seen him in the area, myself. But I could suggest checking up in the hills."

"In the hills?"

"Yeah, the ones a mile over? There's a bunch of caves up there." Nott lowered his voice. "Some say that Sirius Black his there when he broke out of Azkaban."

Harry felt his stomach jump with excitement. "Thank you very much sir. I'll be sure to do that."

Nott nodded curtly, and then shut the door. Harry hopped off the front step and rushed back towards the center of town as quickly as he could. The curtain in the front window of Nott's house moved as he glanced out it, to make sure Harry was gone. The curtain slid back into place, and Nott apparated.


	23. Chapter 23

Harry gathered up the rest of the aurors and they converged upon a small café. They sat down at a booth, and Harry ordered gillywaters. As the sullen, round-jawed waitress drifted away to get them their waters, they discussed what they had found out from the citizens of Oxford-upon-Gardens.

"No one's willing to talk," Penn hissed, drumming his fingers on the table. Seraphina glared at him, and then smacked his fingers with her palm, slamming them down on the table. He shook his hand out and stared at her, his mouth agape.

"You were making me anxious," she replied, shrugging.

Penn continued, ignoring her excuse. "It's like they're scared of something."

"Yeah," Harry said bitterly. "The mass murderer who's been killing everyone in sight." When the waitress plunked half-full water down in front of him, Harry gulped down the rest. She gave him a dirty look, picked up the glass, and headed back towards the kitchen. "I did get something. This guy I went to school with, he lives here now. I think we can trust his word…he says that there's a group of caves up in the mountains a bit away. We need to check them out."

"You think he's hiding up in there?" Atkins traced his pudgy finger around the top of his glass.

Harry cleared his throat. "My godfather was on the run from the Ministry for two solid years. I know for a fact that he lived in the wild, sometimes in caves. If he did it, this guy definitely would. Face it; it's all we have. I say we act on it."

"Agreed," Etor spoke up. He glanced at Harry, and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his robes. "I don't usually discuss my personal life at work, or with my co-workers, but if this will help, so be it." From his wallet, Etor pulled a picture of a smiling, tall woman, who sat on a plaid chair. In her arms were a bundle of blankets. As Harry watched the photograph, a small arm emerged from the blankets and waved in the air, a fat fist grasping at the woman's shirt. She smiled and unfurled the small hand, and then slipped her finger into the baby's hand. Etor handed the photo to Seraphina, who smiled down at it. "That's my wife of three years, and our baby boy. I've been terrified for months, thinking that some sick bastard was going to sneak in our house, and kill all of us." Etor pressed his palms down on the greasy table and stood up. "We're going to those caves. I'm not letting my wife cry herself to sleep one more night."

Seraphina nodded. Penn smiled in approval.

"I'll be damned if I let some madman kill my grandson," Atkins growled.

Harry slapped a galleon down on the table. The aurors stood from their chairs, opened the door to the café, and walked out into the snow. They each placed a hand on the shoulder of the comrade they stood next to. Harry waited a split-second, and then they apparated.

Back in London, Gigi was finishing having dinner with Ron and Hermione. They were still at Harry's house, because their house was roped off for the ongoing investigation. However, the Ministry had sent them an owl saying they could return that evening, so before they left, Gigi had made them dinner. Hermione had politely said thank you, but Gigi preferred Ron's reaction, which was shoving as much food in his mouth as he possibly could.

"Gee-gee," Ron began, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "Pass da meadload?"

"Meatloaf?" Gigi handed Ron the casserole.

"So, Gigi," Hermione said, kicking her husband subtly under the table. "How are things back home, in Boston?"

Gigi had mentioned her family to Hermione before, once at their house, once when Hermione was helping Gigi win Harry back.

"_You must get your tenacity from somewhere," Hermione had joked to Gigi._

"_My Dad," Gigi had answered back. "He worked as a lawyer."_

"_Well that says everything," Hermione laughed. _

"It's fine," Gigi lied, remembering the hurt on her mother's face when she left. She remembered her mother's hesitancy towards warming up to Harry. "They loved Harry." She wasn't sure why she was lying. But then again, she wasn't entirely. Alan and Gabe _had _loved Harry.

"You're brother's what, eight? Ten?"

"Eight," Gigi confirmed, and Ron swallowed.

"Blimey, your mum must be young." He blinked.

"She was twenty when I was born."

"She was my age, Ronald," Hermione said in a cold tone.

"You're a year older than that," Ron protested. Hermione blushed.

"Sometimes," Hermione sighed. "It's better to hear that you're older, rather than younger. Gigi offered her a tight-lipped smile. "So is he taking his Wizarding Placement exams? I hear they're very competitive over in the states."

"Mine were," Gigi laughed. "But I did alright. He'll be fine. He's brilliant. He's already able to perform a protean charm."

"Well I have some books, if he'd like them," Hermione said, patting her mouth with her napkin. "Books on the exams. I was just finishing a rather interesting one about the people who actually give the exams. You know that-"

"'Mione." Ron stared at his wife. "Why were you reading books on that? We've been out of school for years."

"Well, yes," Hermione replied, surprised. "But I was quite curious about America's schools."

Ron shrugged and rolled his eyes. Gigi stifled a laugh.

"I'll be sure to tell him, Hermione."

Meanwhile, Harry and the four other aurors had landed in the rocky terrain that surrounded Oxford-upon-Gardens. The moment they landed (quite unsteadily, given the multitude of boulders), Harry spotted a series of caves lined up on a nearby cliff.

"There," he said, pointing to them. He was careful to keep his voice down. "Alright, everyone. There looks like there's five or six, so pick one and look through it. Be as quiet as you can. If Taylor or the suspect or both are here, we don't want to scare them off. Keep your eyes and ears peeled." The team broke up and began to climb carefully over the rocks. Penn, an animagus, transformed into the form of a raven, and spread his wings. He flew into the cave on the far right. Harry wobbled over the loose rocks, and then, finally, found solid footing when he climbed into the fourth cave. It was small, smaller than he had expected from the immense entry.

Harry raised his wand. "Lumos." The light filled the cave. A bug scuttled out from under a jagged rock and out into the light. Harry winced and crushed it under his foot.

"Harry?" Harry glanced over his shoulder. Atkins was standing at the entrance to the cave. "I've got something." Harry followed Atkins down into the furthest cave.

"Looks like someone's set up camp," Harry remarked, bending down. On the floor was a small mattress. Harry noted that it was covered in blood. Next to it was a set of dark robes, and there was something buried under them. Harry lifted up the robes and excitement shot through his heart. There was a mask, just like the one Darrin had been wearing when Harry caught him.

"Partner?" Atkins asked, bending down too. He picked up the mask and turned it over in his hands. "Or a copy-cat?"

"Partner," Harry confirmed. "Darrin might not have committed the murders, but he knew every single case, even the ones we never released to the public. He had inside information that only someone involved could know."

The two stood, their wands alight, and moved over towards the back of the cave. On the walls were scribbles that seemed to make no sense, just lines and wiggles over and over again, first in what looked like white chalk, and then blood.

"He's getting bored," Harry mentioned, running a hand over the lines. "That's dangerous. It could be that he's building up…getting ready to kill again."

Atkins didn't answer. "What's this?" He was holding up a small, round canister. Harry immediately took it out of his hand. He recognized it upon first sight, since he had seen so many just like it when he was twelve.

"Film canister," Harry breathed. "A boy at my school used to carry ones just likes this. Is there a camera?"

Atkins ducked to look in back of the stalagmite. "Not back here."

"Accio camera." Nothing appeared. Harry traced the perimeter of the cave. There wasn't a camera in sight. Harry exited the cave and slowly called his team together. "Here's what I want to do. Take shifts. Someone's been here, and they might be coming back. It's probable. I want two of you to stay, and the rest of us will go back to London. I have some pictures I need to develop." Harry held up the film canister. "How about Penn and Seraphina? You two stay, and the rest of us will go home. I'll come back in the early morning with Atkins and we'll take over."

"Fine by me," Seraphina chirped, and Penn nodded.

"You get any sight of anyone or anything suspicious and I want you to send me patronus. And…just be careful, alright? This guy is dangerous."

There were a few mumbled good-byes, and then the group split.

Gigi had returned to her apartment after Hermione and Ron had departed Harry's. She slowly walked through the door and deposited her belongings on the couch. Her home looked strangely empty, and Gigi realized that she didn't really consider it to be home anymore. Home was with Harry, no matter what building she was in. Gigi raised her wand, and a multitude of cardboard boxes popped up around her living room.

"Alright," Gigi said, beginning to banish certain items, so they neatly stacked themselves in the boxes. "Tim to get to work."

Gigi moved seamlessly through the first floor of her house, packing up her belongings, until she realized that the phone was ringing. She rushed towards the kitchen, but it was too late. Her voicemail was flashing a red light, signaling a message. Gigi walked over, pressed the speaker button, and then went to pour herself a glass of water.

"_You have: two unheard messages." _There was a loud beep, and then David Meyer's voice echoed through Gigi's half-packed kitchen.

"Hey Gige. Sorry I haven't responded to your call or card. I've been kind of busy. I miss you kiddo. Give me a call when you get this, alright? Merry Christmas."

Gigi stared at her voicemail, and then took another sip of water. Had it really been so long since she had been home? She hadn't checked her messages in ages. There was another beep, and then David Meyer's voice spoke out once more.

"Hey Gigi, it's Dad. Calling again. Listen, you didn't call me back last time, and I don't blame ya. If you're mad, it's fine, kiddo. I'm not the greatest Dad in the world. But I'm going to make up for that, okay? I'm flying out to London in a few days." Gigi dropped her glass. It shattered into a million pieces, and the glass cut at her legs. "I know it's a surprise, but I needed to see you. I'll get a hotel room if you're too busy." David paused. "I'm bringing someone with me. Another surprise. Call me when you're not busy, okay? Love you, kid."

Gigi stopped and stared at the voicemail. She jumped over the shattered glass, and then began to jam her fingers into the buttons on the voicemail. It beeped in protest, but finally, the automated voice leaked from the side.

"_This message was sent one day ago. To reply to this message, press…"_

Gigi quickly unplugged her voicemail. She didn't want to see her father; he had ignored her for weeks, even a month. And she certainly did not want him here, in her house. She wasn't even sure if she would be in this house in a few days. And she most certainly did not want her father bringing one of his young, air-headed girlfriends. Gigi raised a palm to her mouth and screamed into it. She kicked the nearest cabinet in frustration. She wished she could talk to Harry.


	24. Chapter 24

Harry took the roll of film back to the Ministry. He apparated right into entry of the Ministry, and hurriedly began to jog to the lifts. The roll of film was clutched tight in his palm, and he could feel the sharp edge of the rim cutting into his fingertips.

"Hold the lift," he called out, running faster. A short man was just entering the lifts and had just begun to close the door when Harry called out. He turned around, alarmed, as Harry skidded to a stop in front of the doors. Harry charged inside, pressed the button for the fourth floor, and then leaned against the side of the elevator, a stitch in his side.

"Are you alright?" Harry opened is eyes to glance at the other man. With a start, he realized that Arthur Weasley was staring at him, his eyes wide.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry exclaimed, smiling. "It's me, Harry."

Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow. "It's good to see you, Harry. But…er…you're blonde."

"Oh," Harry mumbled, remembering his disguise. He quickly shoved his glasses back on his face, drew his wand from his pocket, and began to fix his appearance. In no time, his hair was dark again and his features were back to normal.

"How have you been, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked in a troubled voice. "I have no doubt your job has been working you hard."

"Extremely," Harry agreed. "You've heard, then?"

"Everyone's heard," Mr. Weasley said quietly as the lift jolted upwards. "Molly's terrified after what happened to Ron and Hermione. She thinks Ginny's next." Mr. Weasley shook his head. "She still worries about you too, Harry. Molly, that is. Stop by sometime and see her, will you?"

"Of course," Harry re-assured Arthur. "I've missed the burrow." He winced a little as he said it. The last time he had been there was when he broke up with Ginny. She hadn't been the happiest then, no, in fact, she had thrown a pair of knitting needles at Harry's head. Molly and Arthur had heard the whole argument, but later, they had written Harry a letter, re-assuring him that he was always welcome to their home. Even so, he hadn't returned.

The lift doors opened on the third floor to let Mr. Weasley out, and he stepped outside. Before he left, he turned around and smiled at Harry.

"You look happy, Harry. I know this must be a stressful time with everything, but there's something else. You stand taller than I've ever seen you do, like something's keeping you aloft." Mr. Weasley tucked his hands in his pockets and shook his head a little bit. "She must be very pretty."

Harry blushed. He didn't know what to say.

Mr. Weasley just smiled. "Molly would like to meet her. Don't be a stranger." Mr. Weasley turned on his heel and headed down the crowded hallway to his office. Harry grabbed the lift doors, shut them tightly, and then pressed the button for the fourth floor once more.

The doors slid open a few seconds later, and Harry squeezed through them, too eager to wait for them to open the whole way.

"Hi Harry!" Someone called out as he ran past their desk. Harry raised a hand in the air as greeting, but didn't look back. He jumped over someone's extra set of robes that was lying in the walkway, turned right, and then yanked open the door labeled: _Personal Relations Office. _

"What can I do for you?" The tall, stringy blonde man was standing with his back to Harry. He didn't look up from his work, a set of photographs that were lying on a desk in front of him. An ink coated quill lie next to the pictures, as if he had been signing them.

"Dennis?" Harry asked tentatively. The man suddenly turned around, so quickly that he sent the photographs flying to the floor. He offered Harry a wide, almost nervous grin, a family trait.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Dennis Creevey asked, scrambling to pick up the photographs. Harry shut the door to the room behind him.

"Top secret stuff." Harry held open his palm, revealing the film canister. Dennis picked it up and carefully examined it. "I need this developed. All of it. But it has to be confidential. You can't tell anyone what you've seen in these, if there's anything at all. You can't even tell people I had you develop photos."

"Does this have to do with that madman who's been killing people lately?" Dennis's mouth tightened. Harry was reminded of Dennis's older brother, Colin, who had been killed by Voldemort. There was no doubt Dennis was picturing that.

"Maybe. That's what the pictures will tell."

Dennis nodded. He pulled a small number of what looked like black stamps from the depths of his pocket, and the reached for his wand, which was lying on the desk.

"Nox," he whispered, and the lights instantly extinguished. In the thin stream of light emitted from the crack under the door, Harry could see Dennis open the canister. He raised his wand, and the filmstrip flattened out on the desk before him. "We've got something here."

Dennis picked up one of the black objects and pressed it to the first frame. It glowed, and then grew dark. He did the same thing, continuing down nearly fifteen frames. Finally, when he was done, Dennis picked up his wand. He muttered a hasty incantation, and then ran the tip of his wand down the filmstrip. At once, the pictures developed. Harry reached for his own wand.

"Lumos." The lights flew back on. Dennis looked away as Harry picked up the film.

"I'll leave you for a moment," Dennis said quietly. "Discretion and all that."

"Thank you," Harry said, completely distracted. He narrowed his eyes and studied the images. They were a bit hard to make out, at first, but when Harry held the film up to the light, he could see every image crystal clear. And as the contents of his stomach turned, he wished he couldn't.

They were images of Goyle. But not just any images, picture after picture of Goyle being tortured. Close ups of Goyle's tear-filled eyes, a slash across his face, and a cigarette burn in Goyle's arm. Harry retched as one image depicted a half-remaining limb. The person taking the images has used a knife to cut through Goyle's arm, but hadn't finished the job. His arm was hanging by a small bit of bone and skin. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and then forced himself to look at the rest of the pictures.

He told himself that this would help him. This could lead to finding the sick man who had done this. This could stop the sick games he was playing. And sure enough, Harry's gut was right.

The last picture had been an accident. Whoever had been taking the pictures had set the camera down, and the camera had gone off without them noticing. Harry squinted at the frame, trying to deduct what was going on. He could see a shadowy figure, with something large clutched in its hand. With a jolt, he realized that the large object was Goyle's head. Harry pulled the image in closer to his eyes. In the background, he could make out a fuzzy object. It appeared to be a box of some sort. Harry held the frame up to the light, so he could see more clearly.

"Oh my god," Harry breathed. He had recognized where this had taken place. It wasn't a box in the background it was a refrigerator. Identical to the one in Taylor's home, where they had found Goyle's head. The shadowy person was Taylor. Harry was sure of it.

Harry yanked open the office door, flew past Dennis, and back down the hallway to the lifts. As they clanked their way up to him, he tapped his foot impatiently. He had to take this to Kingsley. Kingsley would be the perfect person to make this announcement. As Minister, he would have more power in the media the Harry had.

As the lifts opened to take Harry to floor one, he paused. The pictures were Taylor's, he had no doubt. And when Taylor had been an employee, even a shady one, Harry wouldn't have demanded a search and seizure on his things. It was one thing to snoop a little around Taylor's desk, but now, Harry was about to fully search it.

When Harry entered the Auror department, it was nearly empty. There were a few interns looking over the map on the wall, and a few were posting Prophet articles on the wall next to the map.

"Harry?" A young girl, (her name was Margo? Marjorie? Harry strained to remember, stepped forward). "Did you find anything in Oxford?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly. "Can you get the Minister down here? It's urgent."

"The Minister?" All the interns squeaked. Margo/Marjorie looked alarmed, but sprinted out of the offices. Harry ran over to Taylor's desk, and then crouched down at the last drawer.

"Alohamora," Harry whispered. There was a scraping noise, like metal moving against metal. The handle gave away a little, it jutted out, like it was waiting for Harry to seize it and pull. And so, he did. Harry was excited and anxious to see what was lying in this cabinet, to finally get to the truth, to get to the bottom of the matter.

Inside lay one file. Just one. It was thin and lonely. Harry slowly reached inside the cabinet and picked it up. He sank into a cross-legged position, and placed the file on his knee. Slowly, he opened it.

More than a dozen photographs spilled out onto the floor. Moving, flashing, swaying photographs. Curiously, Harry picked up the first photograph.

It was of Gigi. She was sitting in her kitchen, on the phone, talking to someone. Her mouth turned downwards, and she slammed the phone into the receiver, and then screamed. Harry swallowed and turned to the next picture. Again, this one was of Gigi. But this time, Harry was with her. They were at the ice rink, together, skating hand-in-hand. Harry kissed Gigi as he watched. Harry flipped to the next picture.

This one was of Gigi asleep in her bed. The next was of Gigi running. The next was of Gigi and Harry, in the street where they first kissed. Harry panicked, looking through photo after photo. They were all of Gigi and Harry, even a shot from when Harry and Gigi were kissing on top of Harry's bed. Harry turned to the last one. It was a shot of Gigi in her gown from the Winter Gala. She was smiling up at someone, and Harry realized his arm was around her. He was in the photograph too.

At the bottom, written in chunky handwriting in thick red ink was the word **kill. **Harry threw the photograph away from him. A second later, he grabbed the pictures and shoved them back in the files. Harry shot up and kicked the file cabinet closed. He grabbed a piece of parchment, a quill, and then scribbled hastily on it. When he was done, he folded it and put it in his breast pocket, close to his heart.

He had known, in his heart, that this was inevitable. The person he loved most would be the target. His light would be extinguished, his oceans sucked dry, his air supply depleted. Everything he could want or need would be taken from him, and that would be done, ultimately, through Gigi's death.

Four interns were standing outside Taylor's cubicle, staring at Harry as he emerged. They blinked nervously, as though they had been caught doing something wrong, but Harry just shoved the file into the nearest intern's arms.

"Take this to Kingsley now," he commanded in his most authoritative tone. "Tell him I found it in Taylor's file cabinet. I'll be back." And then, Harry apparated on the spot, leaving the bumbling interns to rush to Kinglsey's office, nearly crying with nerves.

When Harry apparated onto Gigi's street, she heard the loud crack. She was in the process of sitting on the edge of her bathtub, scrubbing at a hard water stain, but when the pop occurred, she shot up and ran downstairs. Gigi had been expecting to hear the sound; she had been waiting all evening. She wanted to see that it was Harry, in one solid piece.

Gigi ran to the window. Sure enough, on her street was Harry. He was standing outside her house, muttering incantations to get past the protective spells that barred him from her. Gigi flung open the front door, jumped down her front steps, and charged towards Harry. She threw her arms around him so tightly that she nearly knocked the both of them over.

Harry didn't say a word, he didn't need to. He simply wrapped his arms around Gigi more tightly, holding her more tightly. Her chest was pressed against his, and he could feel her heart beat, skipping against his skin, a re-assurance that she was alive and here in Harry's arms. Slowly, he pulled back.

Gigi had never been more pleased to see one person. She held her hands against Harry's cheeks, cupping his face, cradling it. She wanted to cry with relief, but instead, was simply content with just looking at him.

"Gigi," Harry said, pulling her hands off his face. He spoke loudly, with a certain type of authority Gigi had never quite heard before. "We need to talk."

Gigi wrapped her arms around herself and stomped her feet. She was wearing thin-soled shoes in the snow, and she was paranoid about catching a cold.

"Why don't you come inside? I need to talk to you too. It's really important."

"It will just be easier if I do it out here." Harry paused to clear his throat, and Gigi puzzled over his words. "I can't do this anymore, Gigi."

Gigi felt pain shoot through her body, as if someone had beaten her to the brink of breaking.

"What do you mean?" She asked, looking up at Harry. Something was wrong. His mouth was trembling, and his eyes were almost misty. His voice might have been loud and commanding, but his demeanor said something else entirely.

"I can't be with you anymore," Harry told Gigi. Gigi felt like she might be sick. "I can't go on like this anymore."

"What do you mean?" Gigi pleaded. She reached out and grabbed Harry by the collar and yanked him closer to her. "I know you don't mean this. I know you don't. Too much has been said, too much has been done."

"I can't see you," Harry repeated, looking away from her. He untangled her limbs, and took a step back. "We're done, Gigi. I'm not spending any more time with you. I don't feel the same way I did before." His voice was carrying down the street, and the echo came back to Gigi, amplifying her pain. It was like he was breaking up with her a million times over, and his voice bounced back to mock her.

"I'm not going anywhere," Gigi growled. She stepped closer to Harry and placed her hands on his chest. Harry stiffened. "You're lying. I know you too well. Goddammit Harry, just tell me what's going on!"

Harry grabbed her hands to move them off his chest, though all he wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and take her home. Not even home, just away, where no one could find them. As he grasped her hands, he slipped the paper from his breast pocket and shoved it into her hands. He widened his eyes at her, and her mouth softened a little bit. Thankfully, she didn't say a word.

"I don't love you anymore," Harry said loudly, and Gigi's brown eyes filled with tears.

Even though Gigi knew something was wrong with Harry, and deep down, she knew he didn't mean what he was saying, the words still stung. It was like a million bees had flown into her heart. Gigi felt her eyes fill with tears. Harry stepped further away, and then suddenly, apparated out of the blue. Gigi grasped at the air where he had disappeared, but there wasn't even a trace of him. Not even a hair. Gigi let out a small, confused sob, and then ran inside her house. She slammed the door shut behind her, locked it, and then sunk to the floor. Slowly, Gigi unfolded the letter in her hand.

_Dear Gigi, _it read in slanted writing. _Taylor's guilty, I have proof. He's been watching you and I for months now, but mostly you. He's going to kill you, Gigi. Or try to, at least. But only if I'm with you. That's why I had to do what I did. If there's any chance he's watching you, that might have helped. But keep an eye out, Gigi. Be safe. _

_I didn't mean any of it, not really. I love you. And I always will, no matter what happens. Destroy this letter after you read it. _

Gigi let a tear drip out of her eye. Harry was being selfless. He had sacrificed himself for her, that was what he was going to do. He was protecting her. Gigi hated herself in that moment, more than she ever had before.

Gigi silently stood, carried the letter to the garbage, and tossed it inside. Slowly, she raised her wand, and the contents disappeared into thin air. Too upset to stay up any longer, Gigi began to trudge upstairs. As she sat down on the edge of her bed, she realized that she wasn't scared, not much anyway. She had been cowardly, but that was before she met Harry. Gigi wrapped herself in her comforter and looked at the window.

"Come and find me, you bastard," she whispered into the darkness, watching snow begin to fall.

Outside Gigi's house, a masked figure sat perched in one of the larger trees that graced the neighborhood. It watched as Gigi sat in her blanket, watching the snow fall outside. The person's hand twitched, as if to move towards their wand, which was located in their pocket. But then, the hand fell away. It would be a waste of energy. The figure moved past Gigi's balcony, cautiously stepping onto the largest branch of the next tree. There was bigger fish to fry now.

However, as the figure moved past Gigi's bathroom window, they happened to notice a fatal flaw in their plan to destroy Harry Potter. On the clean, spotless sink in Gigi's bathroom was a small object, something that blended in with the white tile below it, except for one small part. A pink plus sign stood out against the white tile. And in this case, it was Gigi's crucifix.


	25. Chapter 25

Gigi knew she couldn't leave the house. She had nowhere to go, no one that she really wanted to see. Harry was gone, and had taken her heart with him. As well as her sanity. Gigi didn't sleep the night he left. She sat on her bed, tracing the pattern of the stitches with her forefinger. She hoped he was safe, wherever Harry was.

Harry was sitting in the Minister of Magic's office. Kingsley was across the desk from him. On the desk were the pictures from Taylor's file cabinet, the roll of film Harry had found, and the letter from Ron and Hermione's house.

"How does this link them, Harry?" The Minister asked as soon as Harry took a seat in front of him. "I understand that these pictures could be considered stalking, but as they relate to these other two items?" Kingsley sighed.

"Don't you see?" Harry asked, excited. He leaned forward in his desk and began to move the objects around, setting them in order. "The pictures prove that Taylor's been watching us, Gigi and I, that is, since the beginning. He's been watching me specifically." Harry grabbed the letter and shook it in his fist. "This letter, which he left at my best friend's house, we were able to trace back to the highlands outside Bristol. In a cave up there, I found this roll of film. It depicted Goyle's murder. And we found Goyle's head in Taylor's apartment." Harry set down the letter and sat back in his chair, somewhat proud of his sleuthing. "He wouldn't have these pictures if he hadn't been the one to murder him. They're too personal."

Kingsley picked up the pieces of evidence, one by one, and then nodded.

"Okay," he said in his slow, deep voice. "I want a bulletin on Taylor out now. Get Gigi in here."

"No," Harry replied so suddenly that Kingsley moved back a few inches. "I mean…no. She can't come in here. You see, he's been watching her. He's tried to hurt me through others, like Ron and Hermione. I thought he would do the same to her. I had to make him think that she and I weren't involved."

"It's her job, Harry," Kingsley replied. "She's the best we've got. She'll get the word."

"I'll get the word out," Harry volunteered, standing up. "I can't let you call her in. She needs to stay at her home. She'll be safe there, there's all kinds of enchantments."

"Where would be safer than the Ministry?" Kingsley proposed. "Full of Witches and Wizards who can protect themselves and others…?"

"Please," Harry replied after a moment. His voice cracked, and he felt his legs shake. He felt so weak. "I'll do anything, I'll get anyone. Just leave her be. I can't let anything happen to her. You know I'll never forgive myself."

Kingsley paused, and then finally nodded.

"Fine," he replied. "I'll get word to the media as soon as I can and start my own Press Conference. I want you to get your team and head to that hiding spot you found, Harry."

"I already have some of my co-workers watching the caves," Harry replied, heading to the door. Kingsley's voice followed him out into the hallway.

"That's why I hired you."

Harry walked to the lifts, pressed the up button a few times, and glanced at his watch as the lift began to clank towards him. He suddenly had a vision of himself at seventeen, standing at this exact spot, waiting to get on the lifts. He had been so much younger, had so little information, and yet, he had felt as lost as he did now. Harry recalled something his friend Luna had once said to him

_Well, if I were You-Know-Who, I'd want you to feel cut off from everyone else; because if it's just you alone, you're not much of a threat. _

Voldemort had failed to isolate Harry. He had gone right for Harry, and caused casualties along the way, yes. But this killer, this psychopath was something entirely different. He was doing what Voldemort had failed to do. He was cutting of Harry's connections, slowly and painfully. Severing himself from Gigi had made Harry feel, for the first time since he met her, truly alone.

Instead of waiting for the lift, Harry apparated on the spot. He landed out in the open air, which bit at his ears and jaw. He glanced up, towards the mountains. Far above his head, he could see the caves he had explored earlier. With his hand clenched tightly around the handle of his wand, like a sword, Harry began to climb upwards.

When morning hit London, Gigi finally stood up. She folded the blanket she had pulled around her shoulders, smoothed the bed covers, and then walked into her bathroom. Gigi was just about to sit down to pee, when she noticed something on the counter, next to the sink. She had completely forgotten about the test she had taken the night before. Gigi had seen the signs this week. She had missed her cycle, and threw up a few times. So, the day previous, she summoned a test into her home. She had been scrubbing the bathtub, waiting for the results, when Harry had shown up.

Gigi took a few, cautious steps towards the sink and picked up the test. She raised it to her eyes. The pink plus stared back at her, more menacing than any other stare Gigi had received. The pink plus. The positive. The affirmative. The definitely, not maybe. Gigi dropped the test into the sink, and then immediately picked it up again, shook it, and then looked back at the tiny, digital screen. The plus remained. Gigi chucked the stick in the rubbish can, washed out the sink, and then ran back into her room. She picked up her wand off the bed and raised it in the air.

A box appeared on the edge of Gigi's bed. Gigi dropped her wand next to it and stared at the blue, cardboard box. She suddenly wished she were not alone. She wished she had a friend here, to offer words of comfort or a joke. She wished this stupid box wasn't about to deliver her fate. Gigi picked it up, tore back the lid, and removed a small package. She ripped off the wrapping, and took the contents into the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her.

A few mere minutes later, Gigi numbly walked out of her bathroom. In her hand was a second test. This, too, indicated what Gigi had suspected. Two blue lines were ingrained in the tiny screen. Gigi looked down at her stomach.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered into the emptiness of her room. Gigi suddenly went back into her bathroom, shoved the test into a drawer, washed her hands, and ran into her closet. She pulled on a pair of pants, a thick sweater, and a heavy jacket over that. She slipped into her running shoes and jogged out into her room. Gigi had just picked up her wand when the doorbell rang.

Gigi suddenly remembered what Harry's letter had told her. She gripped her wand tightly and moved out into the hallway. She pointed it towards, the stairs, and moved with her back against the wall, breathing somewhat heavily. She felt her blood rush in her ears, and the sound of it terrified her.

"Gigi?" A familiar voice called out. "Gigi, it's Dad."

Gigi nearly ran down the stairs, but she knew that it wasn't that simple. Living in a world of magic had taught Gigi well. She knew that it wasn't necessarily her father at the door. Polyjuice potion was a difficult potion to make, but that didn't mean it was uncommonly used. Gigi stepped out onto the top step. Through the foggy glass in the front door, she could make out two figures. One was medium height and build, and the other was taller and more muscular. Gigi gulped and pointed her wand at the door, though her hand was shaking terribly.

"If that's my father," she called out towards the door. "Tell me something only he would know."

"When you were born, your mother and I called you gourd, because your body looked like a squash." Gigi immediately ran down the rest of the stairs and threw open the door. It was her father, alright. She had hated the nickname, but there was no denying its truth.

As much as Gigi hadn't wanted to see her father before, she was glad he was here now. She had been okay with being alone before, that was fine. But now she wasn't just alone, she was lonely as well. But she didn't have to be, because someone was here to comfort her. However, when she pulled open the door, Gigi didn't feel comforted. Not in the slightest.

"Hi Gigi," her father said, a broad smile on his face. He reached out into the space next to him, and pulled something towards him. Ryan appeared next to Gigi's father, who had clamped his hand tightly around Ryan's upper arm. "Look who I brought with me."

Gigi stared at her father, her mouth slightly ajar, and then looked up at Ryan. He was staring at her as if he hadn't quite seen her clearly before. It reminded Gigi of a muggle movie; the ones where the girl took off her glasses, and suddenly, the boy realized how beautiful she was. Ryan blushed and offered Gigi a smile. She was tempted to close the door, but instead, she moved aside a little and cracked the door wider.

"Dad," she said in a slow voice as they shuffled inside. "I understand it's been a while, but why visit now? And why…why bring company?" Gigi quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Well, Gigi, I missed you. I hadn't seen you, actually seen you in a long time. You sounded okay in your voicemails, but it wasn't enough. I needed to see my daughter in person." David suddenly seized Gigi and hugged her tightly. He released her and beamed. "Look at you. So mature."

Gigi cleared her throat and nodded towards Ryan. Ryan was still staring at her as if he had seen a goddess.

"Oh," David said. "Well, Ryan came to see me. He saw you a few weeks ago…well, look at me doing all the talking. Ryan, you tell her."

Gigi crossed her arms and turned to face her former fiancée. This was a completely surreal event to her. It seemed to bizarre to actually take place, but then again, she felt the same way about the last twenty-four hours

"I saw you when you were at your mum's house for Christmas, Gige. I saw you walking around the block, and you just looked so happy and pretty. And seeing you again made me realize why I've been so miserable for the past year. I lost you and it's like a piece of my heart has completely disappeared. I've never gained it back. And it's ruined me, Gigi, it really has. I need you in my life or I'll never be whole." Ryan stopped and glanced at Gigi's father, who was pretending to stare at Gigi's staircase and pretending not to listen. "Please, Gigi. Give me another chance. I've been so stupid."

Gigi looked from her father, to Ryan. And then back again. Ryan's words had simply no romantic effect on her. None whatsoever. They had bounced off her like they had hit a shield. However, they did take her by surprise. Gigi had no reply then, she was still a bit shell-shocked. Her father cleared his throat and looked around the entryway, trying to cure it of the awkward silence building up between Gigi and Ryan.

"What are the boxes for?" David asked, peering into the living room.

"I'm moving," Gigi said, almost tonelessly. Unconsciously, her hand moved towards her neck. Harry's mother's necklace hung there, still set against her collarbone. Gigi perked up. She shook back her hair, tilted her chin upwards, and smacked her lips together. She had the same brusque manner she had when she walked into work in the morning. "I'm moving in with my boyfriend, Dad. His name is Harry."

"Your boyfriend?" David and Ryan asked at the same time. Ryan moved back against her wall and sunk a little against it.

"I saw you together, at your mother's," Ryan told her. "You were walking together."

"We were," Gigi replied tightly.

"How serious is it?" Ryan asked. David had fallen completely silent, and now had backed into the living room and sat down on the couch, like he was trying to blend into the upholstery. Gigi glared at Ryan. What right did he have, to come here and question her like this? "Do you love him? Was he who you were talking about? You called me in September and left a message. Is that who this guy is?"

Gigi waited a long time before answering. "It is. And yes, I love him. Though frankly, it's none of your business."

"Why?"

Gigi knew she didn't have to answer this question. But deep down, she wanted to. She had a lot to say, and she was ready to say it.

"When you first met me, you must have noticed how precise and organized I was. You did, didn't you? Everyone notices it. Harry noticed it. But what happened is that over time, the time I spent with him, I lost some of that trait. I learned to let go a little. I learned to toss out the rulebook and live my life the way I want to, not the way I should. With him, I learned that not everything will be perfect. It's going to be messy and confusing. But it's so worth it. Harry was everything I thought was wrong for me. But I was the one who was wrong. He's right for me. He's perfect for me, because he's the only one who has encouraged me to break free a little, without being ashamed of it."

When Gigi was done, her chest heaved a little. She felt like she might cry, but instead, she smiled. Ryan stared stonily back, but David grinned a little.

"How serious is it? I know that these are the strongest, most potent feelings I've ever carried for one person. And…well, that's not the only thing I'm carrying. I'm pregnant. And if you knew me months ago, I would have been devastated, even distraught by this news. Because it wasn't part of the plan. It would have ruined my career, and everything I had worked for. I wouldn't have wanted to accept it because it was a pregnancy outside of a union, and that would just be disorderly and _wrong. _But now? Now I know that I'm having a baby with the man I love. I don't give a damn that we aren't married now. I'm madly in love and completely out of my mind, and I love it. I can't wait to continue on like this."

"You're pregnant?" David stood up from the couch and walked over to his daughter. "Gigi…I…wow. You're glowing."

"Dad," Gigi replied, grabbing his elbows. "I have to go. I have to find Harry. I have to tell him."

David glanced at Ryan, who was a pale shade of yellow, and shrugged. He pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, and then released her.

"Go," he whispered, staring down at his daughter's bright, happy eyes. Gigi yanked open the door and ran down the stairs. She didn't have the foggiest where Harry was. But it didn't matter. She knew she needed to see him, and that enough was going to get Gigi what she wanted.

But before Gigi could move one muscle, she was suddenly frozen. Her limbs froze up, and her mouth and eyes. She felt her vision suddenly grow fuzzy, and she thought she might have heard a scream, but then, there was darkness.

**A/N: Please remember to leave me a review! I love getting them and it helps me to improve! Thank you. **


	26. Chapter 26

Harry was nearly halfway up the steep hill that lead to the caves when he heard a noise. It sounded like a hooting bird, possibly. Or a feeble cry, he couldn't be sure. Harry froze in his tracks. Slowly, he bent down a bit, trying to make himself smaller, hoping to conceal himself amongst his surroundings. The sound echoed through the night again, but then abruptly stopped. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

He had no doubt now, the cry he heard was human. It ripped at his heartstrings a bit, because the sound was so utterly, pathetically pitiable. It was painful. Harry felt his own breath come more heavily as he moved around a large boulder. His blood pressure rose as he crawled more slowly up the hill, moving towards the caves. Suddenly, he froze. A light had flickered on at the top of the hill. It moved towards Harry, who instinctively, pulled the invisibility cloak from his pocket and threw it over his body. The light paused for a moment as it moved over Harry, and Harry stopped breathing. But then, it finally crept away, and Harry began to move towards the source of the light.

When Harry was only a few feet away from the edge where the caves met the slope, the light abruptly disappeared. Harry heard a small groan, and then there was silence. Then, the sound of feet, shoes shuffling on rock was heard. There was a crack in the night. Someone had apparated. Not daring to take off the invisibility cloak, Harry dug his feet into the rocks and launched himself towards the edge of the hill.

It was completely dark from where he stood. The only light came from a few small stars that sparkled above him. But that didn't stop Harry from spotting a body on the ground in front of him. Harry ducked next to the limp body of Seraphina and pressed two fingers to her neck, hoping for a pulse. However, no such confirmation was found. She was dead. Harry turned her face towards his. There was a huge gouge in her scalp. Blood was streaming down her forehead, dripping into her open eyes and pooling around the edges of her lips. Resisting the urge to yell in horror, Harry reached out and slid her eyelids down. Quietly, he placed Seraphina's head back down on the ground, and then turned her face so the bloody wound was facing away from him.

Careful not to make any noise, Harry stood up. He adjusted the Invisibility Cloak, and then glanced around. The area appeared to be empty, but Harry knew better than to trust appearances. He stepped over Seraphina's body and towards the cave he had visited earlier. In the darkness, he thought he could make out a shadow lighter than the light that surrounded. Unless it was Harry's imagination, there was another body in the cave. Harry moved so quickly that he forgot his surroundings. He tripped on a rock and fell to his knees. Silently, Harry looked around, when he realized that he was alone, he removed the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it in his pocket. He brushed off his scratched, bloody palms, and made to stand up.

"Not so fast, Potter." Harry felt a wand jam into his neck. "Hands out to the sides."

Harry swallowed, but complied. If there was another person in that cave, someone who had the chance of being alive, Harry wanted to comply in order to make sure that they could escape. He could help them, or escape with them, if he had the chance. The person standing behind Harry grabbed Harry's wand out of his hand, and then kicked Harry sharply in the back of the knees. He nearly fell over, but managed to stay standing.

"Get inside the cave," the person behind him commanded. "Walk slowly." Harry tried to recognize the voice. It was a man's voice, but high and quivery. It wasn't Taylor's voice. It was one that Harry did not fully recognize. He knew he had heard it before, but he couldn't place the time or place. Suddenly, as Harry stepped over the threshold to the cave, light flooded the space before him.

The body on the floor was Gigi.

"No," Harry shouted, and jumped towards her. A flash of light caught Harry in the ribs, and he was thrown against the wall opposite. Harry felt his glasses slide off his face as he hit the stone floor.

"No, Potter." Harry heard the man mutter something, and suddenly, ropes were binding themselves tightly around Harry's body, holding his arms and legs still. Harry struggled blindly. His safety didn't matter anymore, because the person he loved most was lying close to him, possibly injured, possibly dying. Harry heard himself let out a rage-filled cry. The cave was silent, but then, the sound of footsteps approached Harry. Someone forced Harry's glasses back on his face.

Harry blinked rapidly, and then the scene before him came into focus. Gigi was sprawled, motionless, on the other side of the cave. Her hand was placed under her head, like she was sleeping. Harry noted that she was not bonded, like he was. In fact, she was barely breathing. But at least she was, even if the effort was small. Harry glanced above him, at the figure that towered over his body. When he realized who it was, Harry was shocked.

Theodore Nott grinned down at Harry. His face was slick with sweat, and his thin blonde hair flopped over his highly raised eyebrows. He looked mad; one of his eyes was larger than the other, and his hands were bathed in blood.

"You," Harry breathed.

"Me," Theodore giggled.

"How…?" Harry asked. "Why…?"

"Well, I'll tell you," Theodore said simply, sitting down on a near-by rock. He placed Harry's wand next to his foot, and Harry could see he had Gigi's wand with him as well. "I never spend this much time with my victims. But for you, I'll make an exception, since I'm going to kill you so quickly." Harry struggled against the ropes that held him, but Theodore's smile just widened. "It all started in the last wizarding war. You see, my father was a good man. He was a follower of the Dark Lord. And for some reason, your people didn't see that as good morals." His smile disappeared. "So, when the fight at Hogwarts occurred, my father was killed. I knew that he wanted to see the Dark Lord's Victory, but my father never lived to see it. But there was a problem, Potter. You killed the Dark Lord. So, I knew I had to bring him back. The Dark Lord, that is. That way, my father would see his victory upon this wasted, muggle-ridden world."

"You're father's still dead," Harry pointed out angrily. Theodore calmly reached out and slapped Harry across the face so hard that Harry felt blood rise in his mouth.

"So is yours," Theodore replied. "Don't interrupt. I had to show you that I meant business. I knew the way to bring the Dark Lord back. It was detailed in an old book. It said to imitate the circumstances under which he was broken. So, I tried that out. But no matter how many families I killed, it just wasn't the same, was it, Potter? No, I knew that I had to kill you. And to do so, I needed to kill those that stood in my way." Theodore nodded to Gigi's body. "Like her."

"But what about Taylor?" Harry asked. "I know he had something to do with it. I found the pictures."

Theodore let out a small, humor-less laugh.

"Taylor wasn't good for much. I thought, mistakenly, that he was dating your girlfriend over there. I was going to use him to get to you, through work. But then he spilled how the two of you were dating. And I hit gold. We teamed up. Taylor watched you and Gigi; he kept tabs on the two of you. He even set up a rookie kid as bait, as a distraction. But, eventually, I realized that he wasn't as strong as he pretended to be. He could have killed you or Gigi at anytime, and he couldn't."

"So where is he now?" Harry questioned. He hated hearing this, hearing the inter-workings of this man's plans, but he knew that in order to keep himself and Gigi alive, he would have to keep him talking.

"Dead." Theodore picked up Harry's wand and turned it over in his hand a few times. "I killed him days ago. Almost a week, maybe. After he broke into your friend's house, that's when I realized I didn't need him anymore."

"But, what about Goyle? You didn't kill him. You said he was a friend."

"Was," Theodore emphasized. "At school, he was alright. Never a close friend, but just a house comrade. But that _stupid _wizarding war changed him. Thought he was above the Dark Lord. When I asked him for help-" Suddenly, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Gigi had stirred. Her eyes blinked, and when she saw Harry, they widened. Slowly, she pressed a finger to her lips. "He told me that he didn't dare. Not because the Ministry would find out, but because he didn't _want _to. Grew all soft, like Malfoy." Theodore shook his head. "Killed him when I killed Taylor. In his house. It seemed convenient." Gigi had risen to her feet and had moved up behind Theodore, as silently as death. "But now, Harry, I believe I will have the same pleasure. While killing them was fun, it won't be nearly as fun as killing you. I'm going to make you suffer, see. I would kill you first, but I've been so longing to take a crack at this girl. When I stunned her this evening and brought her here, it was easier than I had hoped. But maybe I'll wake her up. Let her fight for her life. It'll be entertaining. She will be a fierce fighter, I'm sure, given that she's more valuable now then she was a few weeks ago."

"Not in this lifetime," Gigi said. She lifted a foot and delivered a quick kick to Theodore's head. His head slammed against the cave wall and cracked open. Blood flew freely from his forehead. Gigi quickly picked up her wand and pointed it at Theodore. "Got you, son of a bitch." Ropes flew from the end of her wand and wrapped themselves around Theodore. There were multiple loud cracks outside the cave as Penn appeared with Atkins and law enforcement officers.

"There!" Penn shouted, and the officers rushed inside. "I called for back-up, Harry. You alright?"

Harry nodded as Gigi knelt down beside him and quickly began to sever the ropes tied around him as the others towed Theodore away.

"Thank God." Harry embraced her tightly as soon as he could. Gigi let out a small sob and grabbed onto the back of his jacket. She dug her fingers into the material, as if she couldn't bear to let him go. "Are you okay? Not hurt, anyway?"

"Not hurt," Gigi whispered back. "Relieved." She was shaking in Harry's arm, and he leaned back so he could kiss her on the cheek. Gigi moved her head so she could press her lips to his. "I just…I really love you."

Harry pressed his cheek against hers. "I don't know what I would do without you." But then, something prodded at his brain, and he pulled away so he could look Gigi in the eyes. "Why did Nott say you were more valuable? Did you hear that?"

Gigi looked down her front. In spite of it all, after what had just happened, a beam spread over her thin face. She looked at Harry and it struck him that she was glowing so brightly, it looked like the sun was shining out of her skin.

"Maybe because I had ruined his chances to kill the remaining Potter."

Harry cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at Gigi. "But he didn't know you were going to take him out…"

Gigi rolled her eyes. "No. Harry, think about it."

Suddenly, it dawned upon Harry. He began to stutter. "A-are you s-saying what I-I think you're s-s-saying?"

"If you're thinking I'm pregnant," Gigi replied.

Harry looked back at Gigi and felt his heart swell. He was so happy in that moment. Sure, they had both been in danger of being murdered. But he was here and she was here. They were safe, and wrapped in each other's arms. They were in love, and best of all, they were about to have a baby.

"I think I have pregnancy strength," Gigi giggled. "When I kicked out like that, I think I was stronger than usual."

"It was the best kick I've ever seen," Harry agreed. He grabbed Gigi, as gently as he could, and folded her in his arms. "Thank you." He whispered in her ear. "You saved me tonight."

"No," Gigi murmured, shaking her head. She placed her chin on Harry's shoulder and cupped her arms around his waist. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder blades and held her against him. "Harry, you saved me from the moment I met you."


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Hey everyone. I just finished my first week of college (eek!) so as a celebration; I'm releasing this chapter and the epilogue tonight. Thanks for sticking with this story and me, I hope you have enjoyed it! Remember to check out my other stories. (I promise they're just as good).**

**Two Months Later:**

As Gigi felt the soft material swish down over her body, she smiled. She raised her arms, pulled the material down, and then motioned to the zipper.

"Could you get that for me, mom?" She asked. Alexandra, who was sitting in the chair closest to her daughter, hurried over and slid the zipper into place. She looked over Gigi's shoulder into the mirror, where her daughter smiled at her.

"You're absolutely glowing, Gigi." Alexandra watched as Gigi grinned more widely, and touched the key that hung around her neck. The diamonds sparkled a little in the sunlight that filtered through the stained glass windows of the room. Suddenly, the ancient wooden doors to the room burst open. Effy staggered through them, her pretty pink dress wrinkled.

"They lost them," Effy wailed. "The flowers that were supposed to be up front? You asked for lilies, right? They're not there."

Months ago, Gigi probably would have lost her head over this. She would have demanded to know who was responsible for this grave error, and then given them a prompt talking-to. She might have fired them. But today, nothing could bother Gigi.

"Calm down." Gigi walked to the other side of the room and picked her wand up off a small vanity. She waved it in a large circle, and two bunches of lilies appeared before them. Gigi waved her wand again, and they were placed in vases. "You wouldn't mind taking these out there, would you? I'm not sure I'm allowed out yet."

Effy's shoulders relaxed and she nodded quickly. "Of course." Effy smiled. "Has anyone told you that you're glowing?"

"I can think of a few reasons why." There was a small knock on the door, and Harry cleared his throat. "May I come in?"

Both Alexandra and Effy looked at Gigi with big eyes. Gigi rolled her own.

"It's just an old wife's tale," she sighed. "Go on, you two. Give us a moment." Alexandra reached out and grasped her daughter's hand as she left, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. She held onto her shoulders tightly, smiled, and then followed Effy out of the room. Harry held the door open for them, and then slipped inside as they left.

"Wow," he breathed, pausing in the doorway. "You look…" he shook his head, flustered. Gigi crossed the space between them and held her fingertips to his lips. She shook her head as well.

"Hi." She said in the simplest tone. Harry smiled, and then drew her hand away so he could kiss her.

"Hi," he responded as he pulled away. Harry tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear.

"Are you ready?" She asked, and unless it was Harry's imagination, her voice quivered a little.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Harry studied Gigi's face, which crumpled a little bit. He felt panic shoot through his heart. "Aren't you?"

Gigi didn't answer right away. She slipped her hand over Harry's and held his palm to her cheek.

"Are you sure you want to marry me?" Gigi looked up at her fiancée with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I don't think I'm good enough for you."

Harry smiled a little as he cradled her face in his hands. He pressed his forehead against Gigi's, and she closed her eyes.

"You, though you might not think you are anymore, are perfect. To me, anyway. I love everything you do, every single thing. You are the best person I know, Gigi Peyton Meyer. I wouldn't be here if you weren't."

Gigi sniffled, and then gave Harry the smallest of smiles. She kissed Harry deeply, curling her fingers in his hair.

"Thank you," she whispered. Harry grasped her hand tightly.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

Gigi wiped her eyes, smiled, and pulled her veil down over her beautiful face. Through it, Harry could see her eyes, which sparkled up at him.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. They took hands, and together, Harry and Gigi entered the adjoining chapel at Godric's Hollow.

They were married that day, in front of a few friends and family members. It wasn't the big, lavish wedding Gigi had once dreamed of. In fact, it was simple and quiet. But to Gigi, it was perfect. It didn't matter that Effy forgot to put out the flowers after all, or that during the reception, she couldn't drink any of the champagne, or that her dress was slightly tight in the stomach, or that Gabe took a piece of cake before it was cut. Because all that truly mattered was the man that waited for her at the end of the aisle.

The one with the messy hair and glasses. The one with the thin face and big smile. The one who took her hands when she reached him. The one that said his vows with such sincerity that it made her want to cry. What mattered most to Gigi was that she was marrying Harry, the love of her life.


End file.
